


Midnight to Dawn

by GemNika



Series: Midnight to Dawn [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, MidLu Week 2015, Orphans, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Self Confidence Issues, Semi-Public Sex, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 50,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemNika/pseuds/GemNika
Summary: Friends since childhood, Macbeth and Lucy are two halves of a whole. She's the Dawn to his Midnight, and always has been.





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters in this story are not chronological. There are important notes at the top of each chapter with the characters' ages, so there shouldn't be too much confusion about when each chapters takes place.

Lucy and Macbeth are 20.  
 _(College, Year Two)_

* * *

Tears streamed steadily down Lucy's blotchy cheeks as she stared at the screen of her phone. She didn't even bother trying to wipe them away. There really wasn't any point since more would follow, and she would just end up wasting tissues that could be put to better use by staunching the ever-present mucus coming from her nose. The cursor blinked, as it had been since she opened the text message nearly twenty minutes prior. She typed a response, only to delete it again and again. What was she supposed to say? How exactly do you respond to something like that?

" _So this no-sex thing isn't working for me. We're done. See you in Psych next week. Lol."_

That was it. Blunt, honest, and heartbreaking. She thought he would have been different, that her unwillingness to move forward with anything physical in their relationship was understood. Sure, she hadn't exactly told him  _why_  she couldn't do more than kiss him. It was all still too new to burden him with her baggage.  _'Take things slow,'_ she thought sadly. That was what everyone had told her. Don't rush into anything. Make sure he really wants you for you, not for sex. The people that ran the orphanage she grew up in understood that. Hell, Seilah and Kyouka were absolute angels as far as she was concerned; they had supported her through it all, and had been totally understanding when she asked if she could stay with Macbeth instead of in her own room.

But this. It wasn't the first time she'd been dumped because she refused most forms of intimacy with whatever man -  _'No, boy,'_  she corrected - she was seeing. Every single one did the same thing. She wanted so badly for just  _one_  guy to see past how she looked. She thought he did, but she was wrong.

" _Okay,"_  she typed, huffing in annoyance when her phone tried to auto-correct and turn her words against her. How that single word could possibly make the situation worse was beyond her, so she quickly hit send. She kept staring at the screen, hoping against all odds that he would text her back. She didn't pay attention to anything around her, far too focused on that blinking cursor and the two blue check marks just beneath her response that told her he had read it. Maybe he would send something back. It was entirely possible that he didn't really want to break up, right? Especially not on that day…

There was a quick knock on her front door, but Lucy didn't hear it. The lock turned over, and Macbeth walked inside with a soft smile on his face. He adjusted the cake box in his hands to close and lock the door, then shifted the bag slung over his shoulder before kicking off his shoes and making his way further into the apartment. "Lucy, I come bearing chocolate and presents!" he called out. "Get your ass out here."

Lucy sniffled quietly, wiping her nose with a fresh tissue while tapping on the screen of her phone to keep it lit up. Just another minute. One more chance for him to send something back. The minute passed by all too quickly, and as the screen turned black, she leaned back against the headboard and pulled her knees to her chest.

Macbeth laughed as he walked into the kitchen, not hearing any noises from anywhere in the blonde's apartment. "Seriously, get out here. I didn't drag my ass outta bed before three for your birthday for nothing." He carefully set the cake box down on the counter, then walked out to the living room. Lucy wasn't anywhere to be seen, and his brow pushed together in confusion when he didn't see the brilliant head of blonde hair peeking just over the top of her couch like it usually was when he visited - either because she was studying or painting her nails.  _'More like failing miserably at painting her nails until I show up to fix it,'_  he thought. Really, she was pretty hopeless when it came to nail polish not getting everywhere. "Lucy?" he called out.

Lucy sighed heavily, resting her chin on her knees while looking at the little piece of technology that had been used to ruin her day.

Macbeth frowned and made his way down the hall. Lucy did have a tendency to fall asleep in the bath - something that she insisted was his fault, although he wasn't sure how - so he made his way to the bathroom. Only to find that the light was off and the door was open. He turned toward the end of the hall, then smirked when he realized she must still be in bed. It wasn't often, if ever, that he was awake before her, so being able to wake her up for a change while the sun was still out? Oh, he'd be lording that over her for months.

Macbeth moved silently to the bedroom door, his smirk widening into a devious grin. Maybe Erik's insanity was finally rubbing off on him, but the thought of pranking the blonde while sleeping was becoming more and more appealing by the second. Especially since it was her birthday. He walked through the open doorway, and when she looked up at him, his smile vanished. "... Dawn?" he whispered worriedly.

Lucy blew her nose and roughly wiped away her tears while averting her gaze from those piercing red eyes. "H-Hey, Midnight," she mumbled. How could she forget that he was going to come by that day? He always came over first thing in the morning on her birthday, no matter where they were, just so he could be the first person to wish her happy birthday. Granted, it always ended up being a competition between Macbeth and Erik on who would do it first, but still… The black-and-white haired man she'd known for most of her life was standing there, and watching her cry her damn eyes out.

Macbeth frowned and made his way over to the bed, then quickly sat down next to her with his back to the headboard. He already knew that she had to be the one to hug him while she was upset. It wasn't a mistake he would make with her, no matter how badly he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and stop her tears. "What's wrong, birthday girl?" he asked.

Lucy sighed and shook her head. What was she supposed to say?  _"Yeah, so I got dumped again because I have intimacy issues."_  Instead of saying anything, she just handed him her phone.

Macbeth raised an eyebrow at her, then turned the screen of her phone on. After quickly swiping across the screen, then typing in the password she used for everything, he looked down at the text message. His eyes widened marginally, then even further when he read it a second time - thinking that  _no one_  was that fucking stupid to just break up with someone through a text. "He broke up with you..." he said slowly.

Lucy nodded.

"... In a text message..."

"Yep."

"... Because you wouldn't have sex with him after  _two_   _months_..."

She sniffled and nodded again.

"... On your birthday…" Macbeth knew that Lucy and that cheeky bastard she was dating had plans for that night,  _and_  that the guy knew it was her damn birthday. He had even found out from the girl at the bakery - who sat behind the bastard in his Lit class - that the guy had set up a reservation at Lucy's favorite restaurant.

"Uh-huh…"

Macbeth's grip tightened on the phone as he read the text a third time, finally seeing something that had somehow slipped his attention before. "Is that a fucking 'lol'?" he hissed through tightly clenched teeth.

A sardonic laugh left her while her head hit the wall with a thud. "Yeah. I can really pick 'em, right?"

Macbeth sighed heavily and took a screenshot, then opened a new text message. He typed a quick message and hit send, then dropped the phone to the bed.

Lucy grabbed a fresh tissue from the box when Macbeth held it out to her, blowing her nose with as much force as she could muster. Her eyebrows drew together when the screen of her phone lit up from the bed again. Just as she was picking it up, the first few notes of the ringtone sounded out. It still took everything in her not to laugh when she saw the picture of that ridiculous maroon-haired man she had befriended so long ago, scowling with everything he was worth as usual, while it was paired with Britney Spears singing  _Toxic._  She answered it quickly, then put it on speaker phone while wiping her nose. "Hey, Erik."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"What?" Lucy asked with a frown.

"That sorry sack of shit broke up with you for not fucking his pathetic ass on your goddamn birthday!" Erik shouted angrily. "That's it. I'm breaking his fucking legs."

Lucy's eyes went wide as she turned to look at Macbeth in horror, only to find him fighting to suppress a triumphant grin. She switched back over to her texting app, and felt as though her eyes were going to pop right out of her head when she saw what the sneaky bastard next to her had done.

A screenshot of the message that had ruined her day was followed by,  _"Cobra, it's Midnight. Get your poison out. He made her cry."_

Lucy turned to look back at Macbeth and shook her head. Everyone knew just how short of a fuse Erik had where certain things were concerned, one of which being Lucy. Ever since they were kids, Erik had taken it upon himself to beat the hell out of whoever upset her. And Macbeth was usually the one that instigated the beatings by telling him just who it was he needed to pummel. "Erik, it's fine. You don't need to-" She sighed heavily when she was cut off.

"Oh, yes the fuck I  _do_  need to maim the little piss-ant," Erik retorted angrily. "Who the fuck types 'lol' after breaking up with someone?! In a goddamn  _text_ , Bright Eyes! A TEXT!"

Lucy sniffled again, feeling the tears that had finally started to slow down coming back full force. "I…"

Macbeth grimaced when Lucy dropped the phone and curled up under the covers to try and stifle her sobs. "Just get your ass out of the hospital first, Erik."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Doc Porly says I've got a few more days." Cobra paused and looked at the text message he'd gotten, a sneer pulling at his lip and causing his sutures to pull uncomfortably. "I'm still killing the fucker," he grumbled.

"Have fun with that then. Just make sure to hide the body," Macbeth chuckled as he glanced at Lucy. He slowly brought a hand to the blonde hair that was peeking out from the top of the blanket, and tenderly stroked it to help her relax again.

"Oh, that's easy," Erik chuckled darkly. "The explosion in the lab was a prototype of this new compound I was working on. I almost had it too… Sulfuric acid times ten, melts right through bone with no fucking trace. Not even a chemical signature. My Chem professor says he wants to ban me from the lab, but the Dean overruled it. Guess that grant I got is worth something after all."

Lucy rolled onto her side, cuddling up to Macbeth's leg like she usually did while she was upset. "How's your eye by the way? Macbeth showed me the pictures he took in the ambulance. It was pretty crazy looking." And it really was. The entire right half of Erik's face was bloody, and there were several breaker shards protruding from his right eye. Luckily - or not so luckily in her case, because she really hadn't wanted to see it so vividly - Macbeth had one where he zoomed in just to showcase the clear vitreous fluid from inside of his eye that was running down his cheek. And another that showed exactly where one shard was piercing the eyeball itself.

"Gone. They couldn't save it," Erik said indifferently. Sure, the lack of depth perception was screwing with him already, and the packed gauze on his face was beyond fucking annoying, but he brought it on himself for grabbing the wrong vial while working in the lab. All because he'd been thinking about how he was going to try and stop Macbeth from getting to Lucy first on her birthday. "Stupid beaker shards."

"That's why you're supposed to wear protective goggles, Erik," Lucy said with a sad smile. "It could've been a lot worse…"

"Uh-huh. I won't be making that mistake again."

"I'd sure hope not," Midnight said solemnly. "You hate dogs."

Erik shuddered at the thought of having to get a seeing-eye dog if anything happened to his other eye. "Yeah, there's another reason right there. Unless Bright Eyes wants to be my seeing-eye sister...?"

"Ha. Ha." Lucy grumbled. "I'll let you walk into a wall... Constantly."

Erik grinned. "Much better than a dog though. PETA would be on my ass so fucking fast..."

"A snake then," Macbeth chuckled, watching as a small smile spread across Lucy's face.

Erik laughed. "Yeah, good luck getting a leash on a snake."

"Think of how many bitches you'd get though," Lucy giggled. "Bitches love blind guys with seeing-eye snakes."

There was a moment of stunned silence, then both Macbeth and Erik burst out laughing. "Wow, Dawn," Macbeth choked out. "Fucking wow..."

"That's why I love ya, Bright Eyes," Cobra laughed before turning solemn again. "Still… He's dead as a doornail."

"He's not worth it…" Lucy sighed. "Just leave him alone."

Macbeth cut Erik off when he was about to continue arguing his point. Lucy never wanted the guy to get in trouble for what he did on her behalf, even though it hadn't ever happened since Erik was a genius when it came to covering his tracks… Or intimidating people into forgetting his face. "Erik, we'll call you later on tonight."

"Yep. Doc just showed up anyway. See ya." Erik paused just before ending the call, then continued with his voice softer than usual. "Oh, and Lucy?"

"Yeah?" Lucy whispered.

"Happy birthday, beautiful," Erik said with a smile while looking at her contact picture on his phone.

"Thanks, Erik," she answered with a small smile.

"Skype good?" Macbeth asked.

"Yep. See ya, Midnight."

Macbeth set Lucy's phone down on her nightstand when the call ended, then turned and laid down next her. When she sniffled again and lifted her red-rimmed eyes to look at him, he smiled gently and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I brought cake," he whispered. "Triple chocolate with strawberries."

Lucy's smile widened excitedly as she looked at him. "Yeah?"

Macbeth grinned. "Yeah. It's your favorite, after all."

When Macbeth moved to stand up, most likely wanting to get her a slice of cake or drag her out of bed, Lucy sighed and wrapped an arm around him so he couldn't move. Once she was sure he wasn't going anywhere, she rested her head in the crook of his neck. "Macbeth?" she whispered.

He grunted in response, lifting one hand from the bed and fiddling with the ends of her golden hair.

"Is it really that bad that I can't... Be with anyone... Like that?" Lucy asked sadly. "After what happened..."

Macbeth frowned and pulled her closer. "No. If a guy's worth it, he'll wait as long as you want him to." It had been almost four years since that night, but Lucy still struggled with it. He just wished he hadn't been working, then he would have been with her and it never would have happened.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "Seems like every guy out there is just looking for a piece of ass. Sting seemed different though..."

Macbeth sighed and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Lucy, not every guy only wants you for that. There are plenty of us that see more than your body. So, don't let some disrespectful, arrogant first year cockmunch make you give up altogether. Mmkay?"

Lucy's lip trembled as she nodded. Macbeth always knew just what to say to make her feel better. Where Erik made her laugh with just how violent and horrific his threats could be, Macbeth was calm and reassuring. Even though he was a total oddball when it came to his appearance - what with the whole glam rock makeup thing he'd been doing since turning thirteen - and he was pretty anti-social with strangers, he was always a sweetheart to her.

Honestly, Macbeth was the standard where guys were concerned. Lucy always looked for traits that reminded her of her best friend, because he was the perfect guy in her eyes. Sweet, funny, caring, gentle. Sure, he had a bit of a sadistic streak when push came to shove, but he never directed that toward her. Whenever they got into an argument, Erik was the one he took his frustration out on.

"Macbeth," Lucy whispered while her hand slid out from beneath the blanket to lightly grasp one of his white braids, "Can I ask for a birthday present?"

"I already got your present," he chuckled. He watched as a small blush crept across her cheeks. "But, ask anyway. You know I'll get it for you."

Lucy's lips parted to ask, the small quirk to the corners falling when she realized something. "Where's Mira, by the way?" she asked curiously. "I figured she would've wanted a date to the festival today."

"We broke up last week. She said something about wanting to date Laxus," he answered with a shrug. It didn't really matter to him. He and Mira worked better as friends anyway, and he was glad that she had just been honest with him when she mentioned wanting to date Laxus instead. If anything, Mira was the one that had been more upset by the whole thing, and he'd needed to console her. Mainly by using her own obsession to his advantage and saying that he 'totally shipped her and Laxus, and the babies would be absolutely adorable' - which had resulted in her smiling and blushing up a storm before passing out for a few minutes. "No biggy. What's this present you want?"

Lucy's smile returned when she heard about Mira ending it with him, and with the realization that he wasn't upset by it. To her, they never really seemed like the most compatible couple, at least not romantically. Mira and Laxus, on the other hand? Yeah, Lucy could definitely see those two together. "Could I… Um… Have something special?" she whispered, fighting with everything she had to keep her nerves from getting the best of her. "Just from you…"

Macbeth nodded, watching a brilliant smile light up her face. "Anything you w-" His words died in his throat and his eyes widened when he saw her gaze flick to his lips for the briefest moment. It wasn't that she was looking at his mouth, because Lucy had a tendency to watch his lips from time to time while he was talking. No, it was the quick swipe of her tongue over her pouty lower lip and the excited glimmer that sparkled in her chocolate eyes when she looked back up at him that made everything slow down. Time came to a crawl once she closed what he belatedly realized was a  _very_  small distance between them.

He saw her eyes sliding closed once their lips met and waited for all of two seconds, just to see if she would quickly pull away and say it was just a silly joke. When she didn't, and he wasn't able to hold himself back any longer, Macbeth finally let his eyes close as well and poured every ounce of the affection he'd had for Lucy for years into that kiss. Lucy really was the only one for him as far as he was concerned, and it had been that way since before he was a teenager. What had been a small crush, before he really understood what a crush was, turned into him truly loving the blonde. She had gone from one of his best friends in the orphanage to a sister, then from a sister to someone he wanted to spend his life with eventually.

Of course, Lucy didn't really know any of that. He hadn't ever told her how he felt about her, because he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. If she kept him in the friend zone forever, then he was fine with it. He still casually dated, since Lucy hadn't shown any interest in him whatsoever, but no relationship was ever as serious as it could have been, simply because Lucy was the one he really wanted to be with. Oddly enough, it was something Mira had picked up on after they were officially broken up. She had told him that he really needed to let Lucy know how he felt, otherwise she might never take a chance on him.

So, that's what he did. He gave everything of himself, everything he felt for her, and let it all come through while his lips moved over hers. He wanted to crush her against him, tangle his hands in her hair, and take her breath away while their tongues swirled together. But, he also didn't want to scare the hell out of her with just how intensely he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he focused on just how perfect her lips felt while she kissed him back.

Lucy inhaled sharply when his hand gently cupped her cheek, finally feeling everything he'd been holding back from her for years travelling between their lips. She was an idiot for not realizing that Macbeth was attracted to her before, and for denying it when Erik had outright  _told_  her as much. Sure, it probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had - kissing her best friend and letting him know that she had finally put two and two together concerning her own feelings for him right after Sting had broken up with her - but she was kind of an idiot sometimes. Lucy just hoped that Macbeth didn't think she was trying to use him as a rebound or something horrible like that.

He was always there for her. No matter what happened, Macbeth was the one person in Lucy's life that she could depend on. He would hold her when she was sad or scared, make her laugh with his quirky and slightly self-deprecating sense of humor, and most importantly… Just thinking about him always put a smile on her face. They really knew pretty much everything about each other, and no matter how damn cliche it sounded, that made him the perfect guy for her to be involved with in any way.

' _And holy hell, can he kiss,'_  she thought as his hand slid around to the back of her neck, his fingers lightly dragging over the nape of her neck and sending an almost imperceptible shiver through her slender frame. Was Lucy attracted to him? Definitely. Mentally, he was able to keep her on her toes, to challenge her in ways that only a few of their friends could; emotionally, she always loved Macbeth, but she was only just realizing that it ran much deeper than what she'd previously thought; physically, oh hell yes. He was downright sexy, with or without makeup, and she had found herself admiring him more than once. That should have been a sign in itself, checking out her best friend, but she had just chalked it up to logically recognizing that he was a man that women would find attractive.

Erik had been telling Macbeth for years to ask Lucy out, even going as far as teasing them constantly about being a couple. What Macbeth didn't know was that the guy had been telling Lucy the exact same thing, giving her the exact same speeches about 'growing a pair' and hooking up. Macbeth was pulled from his musing when he felt Lucy's tongue lightly brush over his lips. When she started to retreat, his lips parted and he followed her, groaning softly when their tongues finally connected.

Hey, if this was the only chance he would ever get to kiss the girl of his dreams before they went back to the way things were, he was going to take whatever she wanted to give him. It was surprising as hell that Lucy would even want to kiss him in the first place, especially since he thought Erik was high as a fucking kite every time he mentioned that Lucy 'totally has a thing' for him. But what if she was just doing this because she was upset over Sting breaking up with her?

He knew deep down that that wasn't the case. Lucy was never like that. She cared too much about how others felt, and about herself, to use someone as a rebound. That was the only reason he wasn't pushing her away right then. Okay, and because he really wanted to keep kissing her.  _'Damnit, I should have done this sooner…'_

Lucy slowly pulled away when her lungs started protesting the minimal oxygen they were getting, and looked up into Macbeth's eyes as they slowly slid open. He looked so damn surprised by it that she nearly giggled. Surprising him was always something she loved to do, after all. But there was something different about how he was looking at her right then.  _'Looks like Erik was right,'_  she thought when she saw how his eyes had darkened with desire. Macbeth would have pushed her away if he wasn't interested in her, so it had to be a good sign that he was looking at her as though all he wanted to do was keep kissing her until they passed out from a lack of oxygen. A small smile pulled at her lips. "Looks like Erik owes me fifty bucks," she whispered softly. "Your lipstick smudged."

Macbeth blinked in surprise when her words registered. "Wha-"

Lucy leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss. "That's just a perk though, Midnight. Thank you…"

"That… was what you wanted?" he asked uncertainly. While he wanted to believe that she was really interested in him, and that maybe he could finally confess just how he felt about her - and that he'd wanted to be with her for years - there was still that kernel of doubt in him.

Lucy giggled and nodded quickly. "Uh-huh."

Macbeth's eyes slid closed again when she started fiddling with the braid she always commandeered for herself when she played with his hair, letting the tingling sensation that pulled lightly at his scalp lull him quickly into that familiar state of relaxation that came before he passed the hell out. He forced his eyes to open again, and smiled down at her. "Why?" he asked.

When his hand slid from the back of her neck up to brush the drying tears from her cheeks, she blushed slightly. "Why else?" she whispered. "You're Midnight, and I'm Dawn." Those nicknames from their childhood together, while they had been silly at the time, had stayed with them. It only served as a reminder of just how much history they had together. "Can't have one without the other, right?"

Macbeth chuckled, letting his eyes drift closed again. "I guess not."

Lucy grinned and reached over him to grab a tissue, then blotted her tongue with it to add a bit of moisture. "Seriously, though… Your lipstick smudged."

"Mm-hmm," Macbeth hummed, smiling softly when he felt her wiping away the messed up makeup. "I'll be sure to send MAC a lovely letter about it." He peeked his eyes open to look down at her, chuckling again when he saw her wiping at her own lips to try and get rid of the smeared black lipstick. As he took the tissue from her and helped get the spots she missed, he added, "Can't have my makeup getting messed up from kissing the girl of my dreams."

A bright flush crossed her cheeks and she blinked for a moment before a brilliant smile spread across her face. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm," he answered with a smirk. "No way are they getting away with lying about this being smudge-proof."

Lucy pouted instantly. "That's not what I meant…" She sighed softly when he leaned down to kiss her.

"I know, Dawn," he chuckled. "And yes, really."

Lucy tucked her head down and snuggled closer to him. "Get under the covers, Midnight. I wanna cuddle."

"I'll fall asleep though. You know that."

Lucy shrugged. She waited until he was under the blanket with her and his arms were around her again, then whispered, "So let's take a nap. We've got errands to run later."

"What errands?" he asked curiously. "It's your birthday."

When Macbeth yawned, Lucy laughed. "You're hopeless sometimes, y'know that?" She felt him nod, and rolled her eyes happily. The guy really loved his sleep, and the fact that he was willing to wake up so early for her birthday - when it was like pulling teeth to get him out of bed early any other day - was just another reason to love him. "We need to go find you some new lipstick," she continued. "And I'll help you test it out to make sure it doesn't smudge."

"You're just gonna start making out with me in the store, huh?" Macbeth laughed. He froze when Lucy looked up at him with a devious grin. "Oh god… Not that face… Lucy…" That shit never ended well for him. Ever.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do," Lucy whispered.

"Why am I suddenly afraid of you kissing me?" he whispered weakly. When Lucy laid her head on his chest again, he unconsciously pulled her a little closer. The small laugh that filled the otherwise silent room was absolutely terrifying. Lucy always was when she had something up her sleeve, and he just had to hope it wouldn't be too bad.

Lucy frowned when she felt Macbeth's phone vibrating in his pocket, and pulled away slightly to reach down and get it like she usually did. She swiped the screen and typed in his password to unlock the phone, then her eyes widened in shock when she saw the text message from Gajeel.

" _Hey, I heard someone made my Bunny cry. Me and Crazy Eyes handled it."_

"What the fuck?" Lucy whispered, dropping the phone entirely when a picture came through next. She closed her eyes and grunted in pain when the phone smacked her in the face.  _'Every time I drop it... It hits my face...'_

Macbeth frowned and picked up the phone, then laughed loudly when he saw what had caused her to drop the it in the first place. Aside from the text from Gajeel, there was a lovely picture of a bloodied up Sting Eucliffe, chained to the front of the Humanities building. With Bickslow standing next to him, a triumphant, tongue-lolling grin on his face and a spare chain in his hand. There was even a chain being used as a gag. If that wasn't enough, the sign hanging around his neck that read,  _"So this no-sex thing isn't working for me. We're done. See you in Psych next week. Lol."_ just added insult to injury - literally. How they had managed to get a screenshot of the text and blow it up to such large proportions in the short amount of time between Erik finding out and then was beyond him, but he was sure it had something to do with Gajeel's connections on the newspaper - namely that he was banging the little blunette editor, Levy. And probably that weird Jason guy that always shouted about things being cool.

"I told him not to do anything…"

Macbeth typed out a quick,  _"That's awesome man. Thanks."_  He put his phone on the nightstand with Lucy's, then looked down at the shell-shocked blonde. "Well, knowing Cobra," he said slowly, "He told Bickslow and Gajeel about it before calling you. And Gajeel probably told Levy right away, since those two are always together anyway. It's pretty genius, if you ask me."

"Poor Sting though," Lucy whispered. "He'll have to have that over his head for the rest of the time he's here…"

"Lucy, he's a fucking asshole," Macbeth scowled. "He deserves more than a beating from Gajeel and Bickslow, and some humiliation for that shit. If Erik wasn't in the hospital right now, he'd already be dead and you know it."

Lucy sighed and shook her head. "Hey, where was that anyway?" she asked after a silent minute.

Macbeth started laughing again. "That's the entrance to the Women's Studies wing in the Humanities building…"

Lucy blinked for a moment, then snorted and buried her face in his chest while she started laughing. "Okay… Bickslow was  _definitely_  part of that!" she choked out. Sting would never be getting laid again. Well, at least not with anyone that went to Magnolia University. While she didn't want to have to deal with drama as a result of the breakup, the fact that she had so many people that took care of her in their own weird ways had her heart nearly bursting with affection for them. They were all her family through their friendship, since she didn't have any blood relatives left. Erik, Gajeel, Bickslow, and most importantly Macbeth. She loved her crazy family with everything she had, and honestly... She wouldn't have it any other way.


	2. Clock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that the timeline was going to jump around from one day to the next? Well, this is one year _before_ the previous chapter. Which means that Midnight and Lucy _are not_ dating in this one. Just wanted to make that clear before we get started.

Lucy, Macbeth, and Erik are 19.  
 _(College, Year One)_

* * *

Lucy sighed as she walked down the familiar dormitory hallway, already dreading what she had agreed to do. She couldn't remember exactly how Erik had roped her into it, and had even checked the text messaging conversation to try and sort it out. Still, it didn't make any sense. Somehow, the conniving little shit had convinced her to wake Macbeth up for his noon class - something that she still didn't understand, since he hated waking up before three in the afternoon - while he went off to do... Well, she wasn't sure what, but she did know that it involved chemistry.

Erik had explained it to her in great detail at least twenty times. Some grand idea for a new chemical compound or something. Hell, he had written up a proposal for it to try and get funding for the research, and she had proofread the thing three different times for him... And she  _still_  didn't have a fucking clue what it was about. Aside from acid. Or something  _like_  acid. That much, she had picked up on. Everything else consisted of preliminary and theoretical chemical equations that just made her head hurt, so it was still a mystery.

 _'I guess that's why I agreed to it though,'_ she mused while turning a corner and continuing to the stairwell to get to the third floor. If Erik needed to be somewhere to work on that chemical-doodly, as she called it (much to his annoyance), then of course she would give up her precious lounging time to  _try_  waking Macbeth up. She didn't have any Monday classes, so she would have just been laying in her own dorm room and probably binging on Netflix... Okay, and chocolate cake. It seemed that Macbeth and Erik were determined to help her achieve the coveted goal of 'Freshman Fifteen' before Christmas break, so she always had snacks at the ready, provided by the two of them. Then again, they ate as much of the garbage as she did, so who really knew what the hell those two were thinking?

With a heavy sigh, she stood in front of the door that led to Macbeth and Erik's dorm room. This wasn't going to be an easy task, and she already knew that she was most likely going to fail. But, she had promised Erik that she would take over his solemnly sworn roommate duty for the day to rouse the heaviest sleeper in existence. Just for shits and giggles, even though she had a key of her own that Macbeth gave her - after making a copy of it without permission, mind you - Lucy knocked as loudly as possible.

A quick glance at the time on her phone showed her that it was still a quarter to eleven.  _'Plenty of time to wake him up so he can get ready... If he actually wakes up at all...'_ If he didn't snore softly, or mumble occasionally, then she would swear he had just died in his sleep.

"Hey, Luce!" Natsu shouted as he rushed down the hall, holding a pair of ice blue boxers in one hand. "Cobra's not there. He was out first thing this morning."

"Yeah, I know," Lucy groaned, smiling despite the aggravation she was about to endure as Natsu stopped in front of her. The pinkette was a bucket full of energy, constantly, and she honestly just couldn't help but be affected by his infectious grin. "I'm on Midnight duty."

Natsu laughed, throwing his head back and all. "Damn... Well, good luck with that! Last time Cobra woke him up, he used a taser. And even then..."

"Yep," Lucy giggled. "It still took a minute to wake the silly thing up." She paused for a moment, then raised an eyebrow at the article of clothing in his hand. "Uh, why are you-"

"Natsu, you fucking asshole! Gimme those goddamn boxers!"

Lucy turned to the side, her eyes going wide and her face flushing in embarrassment when she caught an eyeful of a  _very_  naked Gray running down the hall. "Uh..."

Natsu cackled wildly and flipped Gray the bird. "Hell no, Stripper!" he shouted. "Sorry Luce, I gotta bolt. See y'around!"

Lucy smiled and rolled her eyes while turning back to the door. She gave Gray a simple wave as he rushed past her, then pulled the key to the room from her pocket. Once she was safely in the confines of Macbeth and Erik's room with the door closed securely behind her, she sighed again and dropped her bag on Macbeth's desk. She slipped off her flip flops and padded over to the rumpled bed, glaring at the mound of blankets that were acting as a chrysalis around Macbeth.

The image of him emerging as a butterfly, with extravagant makeup in varying shades of yellows and purples of course, had her openly laughing. And then blanching when she considered the idea of Macbeth also being covered in a thin layer of clear gelatinous goo while he broke free from his cocoon. "Oh my god," she whispered in horror. "Midnight, please… For the love of all that's holy… Don't be a butterfly."

Shaking her head quickly to free herself of that train of thought, Lucy looked around the room to see if there was anything that could be remotely useful. First and foremost, she needed to get the blankets off of him. And yes, she meant  _blankets_. Plural. He was perpetually sleeping as a Macbeth burrito, and the only thing that was missing from the picture was a large cup of Mountain Dew and some hot sauce.  _'Okay, and those fucking cinnamon twist things… God, those are delicious.'_

Honestly, if it wasn't for the pale hand with black fingernails just barely peeking out from the small airhole in the top, she would think he wasn't there. Or that he really was in the process of pupating. "God… Pupate is such a creepy word," she grumbled as she reached down to peel off the top blanket. "I mean, really…  _Pupate_ … Ugh..." She shuddered while throwing the first blanket to the floor. She had learned the hard way that Macbeth would pull blankets that were pushed to the foot or sides of the bed back over himself in his sleep. Or he would roll and burrow under them while mumbling something completely unintelligible.

"One down, and…" Lucy paused and bent down to count the layers of fabric between Macbeth and the outside world. "Really, hun? Seven? Seven goddamn blankets. I already know you're not sweating under there, so what the fuck?" It was always a comfortable seventy-five degrees in the room, and he didn't do it because he was cold.

" _It's because it's cozy,"_  he had once said. Cozy was a goddamn understatement.

Layer after layer was pulled from him, with Lucy taking little to no care whatsoever to not jostle the sleeping man in the process. It's not like it would wake him up anyway. "You do realize someone could just kidnap you right now, right?" she asked, wincing when she finally got the last blanket loose and he rolled over and smacked his face on the wall that his bed was pushed against. She watched hopefully to see whether that had miraculously done her job for her, and rolled her eyes when he snored and rolled onto his other side. "You sleep like the dead..."

Still, she couldn't be mad at him for sleeping. She found out a long time ago that he used to have the most intense case of insomnia anyone had ever come across, and it was all because of his birth father. Macbeth was afraid to sleep when he was a kid. And now he slept as much as possible, almost as though he was trying to make up for years of missing out on it. Now he was just a night owl, and he'd been that way ever since Lucy had met him. Lights out in the orphanage left him with nothing to do but read in his bed. If Erik, Sorano, Richard, or Sawyer were awake as well, then Macbeth would venture further than his own bed. The only time he really slept at night was when Lucy crawled into his bed to keep her own nightmares away.

"You know," Lucy said softly while she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair away from his face. "I wish I could just let you sleep, Midnight." A small smile crept across her lips when she looked at him, finally able to see his face. His makeup was gone, and she was finally able to see what her best friend looked like again. His own personal style didn't bother her, and she actually loved what he was able to do with makeup, but it was a nice change to see it missing.

"But, I made Erik a promise that I'd try," she sighed. "Which means I've gotta give it all I've got." She went through her options of normal things that could be used to wake someone up, and found herself ticking each one off as something that had already been tried - several times, mind you - to no avail… Or were too cruel to justify without Erik coming up with it and convincing her it was a good idea. Like pouring water on him. It didn't work; just made the bed soaked and almost drowned him the last time she and Erik tried it. She could have grabbed some ice and shoved it down the front of his black and red flannel pajama pants like last time. But that was horrible, and he'd been grumpy all day.

Lucy jumped when the alarm clock on his phone started going off only a few seconds before a regular alarm clock at the foot of his bed chimed in. "Two clocks?!" she shouted while frantically trying to unlock his phone and stop the onslaught of dissonant notes that were screeching from the small speaker. "Why the hell are you using Silent Hill music for your alarm?!" When she finally turned off the alarm - and the other four that were set to go off over the next thirty minutes - she set the phone down and scowled at the other clock. "Sure. Wake yourself up by scaring yourself half to death thinking Red fucking Pyramid is gonna come in and chop you to little pieces. Genius, Macbeth..."

Lucy stomped over to the little red monstrosity and yanked the cord right out of the wall, only to find out that it still ran on a battery. "I get it!" she yelled. "He needs to wake up! SNOOZE, you asshole! You're not even doing your damn job!" Once the little beeping demon had shut its gob, she was able to find the switch that turned off the alarm completely. A sigh of relief passed her lips, then she turned to look at Macbeth. Sleeping like a baby. She frowned and, without thinking, threw the clock at him. Clearly, she was channeling her inner Cobra, because normally that wouldn't have happened.

The clock fell to the ground, with Macbeth sleeping soundly and a light snore filling the otherwise silent room, and Lucy stalked to the head of the bed with a deeper frown on her face. "Macbeth!" she shouted. "Wake up! The building's on fire!"

Nothing.

"There's a sale on MAC Cosmetics at the mall! Buy one, get two free!" Well, that sale wasn't for another two days.

Zip.

"Kryolan, too! I heard they came out with a new palette!" Which was true. There was a new palette that she saw while she was shopping the previous week, and she was actually planning on getting it for him for his birthday in a month.

Zilch.

"Goddamnit, Macbeth," she sighed while sitting down on the edge of the bed. She couldn't remember ever having successfully woken him up on time for something.  _'Well, there was that one time… Maybe that'll work again.'_

She moved to kneel on the bed next to him, then smiled softly while brushing his hair from his eyes again. It was silly, but the first time she had sung it to him - on Christmas morning when he wouldn't wake up so they could open their presents - Erik and the others had all been smiling up a storm. And then Macbeth had joined in when he woke up part of the way through, since she refused to stop in the middle of her song.

"How about the Get Up Song, hun?" she said tenderly. "Think you'll wake up if I sing it?" When he didn't respond, she giggled and placed her hands on his shoulders, then took a deep breath.

 _Get up, get up, get up,_  
Get outta the bed,  
It's time to rise.

Lucy began shaking his shoulders while singing as loudly and obnoxiously as she could manage, watching as his limp body was wiggled from one side to the other. He didn't stir, but she had only just gotten started.

_So open up your eyes,  
And see the sunny skies._

She leaned forward and peeled his eyelids open just as the door to the room was opened to reveal Erik. She smiled brightly up at him when he walked in and sat down on his own bed, then looked back down at Macbeth's face to see his crimson irises shaking slightly while he continued with his REM cycle.

 _Get up, get up, get up,_  
Get outta the bed,  
And stretch a mile.

Erik laughed when Lucy started shaking Macbeth even harder than before while she kept singing. The blonde had a beautiful voice normally, but this song in particular always made her bring out the worst in it. She sounded worse than Gajeel, like Fran Drescher was getting fucked in the ass by a damn rhino. No way in hell was he going to let Macbeth miss this shit, so Erik quickly pulled his phone out and started recording the blonde.

Lucy quickly grabbed Macbeth's arms and stood up on his bed, her legs straddling his. She pulled the limp noodles up into the air and shook him violently, watching his head loll back and forth. A loud snore echoed through the room, and Lucy huffed while dropping him to the bed.

_Put on a great big smile,  
And really make living worthwhile._

She dropped to her knees and reached forward, then grabbed his cheeks and forced his face to split into a huge grin, smiling herself at how ridiculous he was.

Erik stifled his laughter when Lucy started squishing Macbeth's cheeks and whipping his head back and forth.

 _C'mon, get up._  
It's time to get outta the bed.  
C'mon, get up.  
Get up, you sleepyhead.

Lucy's eyes narrowed as her voice grew more agitated. Her hands moved to Macbeth's shoulders again, then shook him violently. She started bouncing slightly while propped up on her knees above him, then sat down and wiggled her whole body just to make him move a little more. Something had to work, but she couldn't remember just what had happened to get him to wake up the last time she had done this.

 _C'mon, get up._  
You must be going your way.  
You never can borrow a part of tomorrow  
For time that you wasted today!

Erik snorted when Lucy started slapping Macbeth. His arms, face, chest. Pretty much anything she could reach. None of that shit ever worked before though, so he didn't even really know why she was doing it. Well, aside from getting her frustration out. It was just too bad though. She wasn't just jumping the guy's bones like fucking  _everyone_  knew she really wanted to. Well, everyone else thought that Lucy was just fighting her attraction to Macbeth, but Erik had actually talked to her about it. It was one of the few times she fully capitalized on the dumb blonde thing. She hadn't a fucking clue that she saw Macbeth as more than just her best friend and brother, which was why Erik took every opportunity he had to tease the shit out of them about being a couple. Maybe it would help her realize what everyone else knew… Maybe.

Lucy clapped twice to end the song, throwing her hands into the air in triumph with a wide smile on her face. Her arms dropped to her sides in defeat when Macbeth lay slumbering on the bed beneath her. With a heavy sigh, Lucy leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the slightly red mark on his cheek, then squeaked when Macbeth groaned and rolled over… Dragging her down onto the bed with him, with her back facing Erik.

Erik started laughing hysterically, dropping his phone to the bed in the process after ending the video, when he saw Macbeth using the poor blonde as a teddy bear. Shit like this was why everyone thought the two were a couple more often than not. If someone like Natsu had pulled a stunt like this, Lucy would have kicked the shit out of him, and then he would have promptly gotten a serious beating from Erik for touching her in the first place. Honestly, the only ones that got away with cuddling with the blonde were Macbeth and himself. That was Lucy's choice though, and it just so happened to fall in line with his own preference on the matter. Granted, he didn't make a habit out of cuddling with her while laying in a bed, but the handful of times it had happened had never been an issue for her.

Once he had calmed himself down, Erik slowly stood to his feet and grabbed his phone, silently reminding himself to email it to Macbeth later. And most likely Gajeel. Okay, that shit was going on YouTube. It was just too goddamn funny not to share it with fucking everyone.

"Erik, help me!" Lucy cried out, wriggling in vain to try and pry herself from Macbeth's grip.

"Hell no," he laughed while picking up the blankets from the floor and tossing them on the foot of Macbeth's bed.

"Why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do, and that's why I was waking him up." Lucy's eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw that familiar mischievous smirk pulling at a corner of his lips, and his indigo eyes gleaming. "You didn't have anything to do..."

"Nope. Well not my Chem shit..."

"What the fuck?!" she yelled, groaning in annoyance when Macbeth sighed and pulled her head into his chest to muffle her screams. She glanced up to see his eyes were still closed, and that he looked like he was still asleep. Or maybe he was in the process of waking up. She wasn't really sure.

"I'm heading out now, Bright Eyes. Had to come back to get my shit." Erik laughed when he heard her muffled question, already knowing that she wanted to find out where the fuck he was at. "I had a date."

Lucy ripped her head away from her pale, quiescent best friend to stare at Erik in shock. "You what?!" she asked excitedly, her previous agitation forgotten entirely. "With who? How long have you been together? Oh my god! Is it someone I know? Is she sexy? Is it a guy? Oh my god! Is it Gajeel?! That would be so- Mmph!"

Erik well and truly gaped at her, thankful that Macbeth's arm wrapped around her head and pulled her back to his bare chest to shut her the fuck up for a second. He slowly grabbed his laptop bag, keeping his gaze trained on the flailing blonde. "One, fucking breathe, Bright Eyes. Two, seriously... Breathe. Is it so hard to believe I had a date?"

"Yes," Macbeth yawned, snuggling closer to Lucy and keeping his eyes closed. "Hey, Dawn." He smirked when a rubber band went sailing across the room and hit his forehead.

"Asshole," Erik muttered. "Yes, I had a date. We only just decided to go out, and it was only fucking coffee before he had to-"

Lucy squealed and roughly pinched Macbeth's nipple to get him to let go of her. "Yes! Oh my god! Oh my fucking god, yes!" she screeched, her voice going into an alarmingly high falsetto. "Who is- Mmph!"

"Lucy," Macbeth groaned as he pulled her back down to the bed and threw a hand over her mouth, using the other to rub at his poor abused nipple. "Let him answer the first line of questions..."

Lucy huffed and glared up at him, her eyes instantly softening when she saw him slowly cracking his own open to look at her. She slowly nodded, then stuck her tongue out at the sleepy, but no less comfy, bastard. With a soft sigh, already knowing Macbeth wasn't going to be letting her get up anytime soon, Lucy slowly rolled over in his arms to face Erik with Macbeth's chest pressing against her back as he moved with her.

Erik raised a brow at Macbeth. The guy had confided in him a long time ago that he had a thing for Lucy, well before they were even in high school. It hadn't diminished over time in the slightest, but he was honestly surprised that the metro son of a bitch was able to act so casually about everything when he was head over heels for the girl.

All he got in response was a sad smile. And fuck, was that depressing as hell. Macbeth didn't think he had a chance with her, and had resigned himself to being Lucy's best friend for the rest of his life. He didn't want to put what they had in jeopardy, or make her uncomfortable around him by admitting his feelings for her, no matter how much Erik told him to just man the fuck up and tell her. He just didn't see the way she looked at him like he was the only fucking person in the room sometimes. Granted, Lucy didn't realize she was doing it, but that wasn't the point.

Cobra sighed and looked at Lucy, seeing the content smile on her face that only came out when Macbeth was holding her like that. She felt safe with him, and after the shit she went through, it was a fucking miracle that she was able to feel that way with anyone. The fact that she could be perfectly comfortable lying in bed with a half-naked guy, when anyone she had tried dating could never get past kissing her without her freaking the fuck out, was testament enough to him being the one she wanted to be with. She was just too fucking blind to see it.

They were both a pair of idiots sometimes. At least when it came to each other. He couldn't understand how two of the smartest people he knew - with Lucy being a goddamn wordsmith and getting her English degree, and Macbeth having some of the most insightful shit rattling around in his head that hardly anyone knew about because he was going to school for art - were just so goddamn stupid about this one fucking thing.  _'They're fucking perfect for each other.'_

So, instead of saying anything about them just getting together already like he'd been thinking about for all of five seconds after Lucy rolled over, he plastered a smirk on his face. "Yes, it's a guy. And it's someone you know. If anything pans out, I'll tell you who it is. Until then, you'll just have to suffer. I don't even know if he wants people knowing shit about it, so there." He paused for a moment, then grinned. "And,  _hell yes_. He's sexy as fuck."

Lucy giggled and shook her head. "I bet it's Gajeel." All she received in return was that same arrogant grin that let her know Erik wasn't going to let anything slip about this mystery guy's identity. It was no secret that Erik swung both ways, well not to their little group of friends, at least. He just had long periods of 'women are where it's at,' followed by 'nah, I want some dick' and she was perfectly fine with that. If anything, it made it more fun to try and figure out who his latest squeeze was before he broke down and told her.

Erik shrugged and adjusted his laptop bag on his shoulder. She wasn't far off with the Gajeel comment, and while he definitely thought the pierced biker was a sexy son of a bitch, he was pretty sure the guy was straight as an arrow. They were just really good friends. It was more of a friend of Gajeel's, someone with a mohawk and the craziest fucking grin he'd ever seen. "Anyway, I'm off to the lab. Professor Clive said he'd open it up for me to work on my shit since my Chem professor is in the hospital."

"Isn't it your fault that happened?" Macbeth chuckled.

"No," Erik sneered. "I got paired up with that fucking psycho Jackal. He  _intentionally_  blows shit up. Thank fucking god I was taking a piss when that happened. Asshole could've killed someone."

"Well, I'm glad you're okay," Lucy said softly. "You know I worry about you."

Cobra gave her a small smile. "I know,  _Mom_ ," he chuckled. The answering tongue sticking out at him had him laughing. Lucy was always like that with everyone, acting just like the mother no one in their little family ever had.

"Hey, don't make fun of me," Lucy pouted petulantly. "You're always working with highly combustible chemicals. And I bet you weren't even wearing those safety glasses before you left the lab. You could lose an eye, Erik."

Erik scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm good. I don't make stupid mistakes like blowing shit up. Why don't you worry about your boyfriend over there, huh? One of these days he'll sleep himself into a fucking coma. Wait... He'd probably love that shit."

Macbeth rolled his eyes. "Hilarious."

"Yep," Erik chuckled. "Well, I'm outta here. Have fun."

"Wait! You're not gonna help me get up?" Lucy called out as he started walking away.

"Nah, you're good right there."

"You're a fucking asshole, Cobra!" Lucy shouted at his retreating back as he walked out the door. It was highly likely that Macbeth would fall back asleep at any moment, which meant Lucy would be stuck where she was until he woke up on his own.

Cobra popped his head back in. "By which you mean..." He paused and cleared his throat, then did his best Lucy impersonation, including a very high, squeaky voice. "'Thank you for giving us alone time, Cobra. Now I just have to get his clothes off so I can fuck his brains out.'"

Lucy reached down to the floor and grabbed the previously forgotten clock, then swiftly chucked the thing at his head. "I do  _not_ want to fuck his brains out! Help me!"

"Enjoy your nap, Bright Eyes!" he cackled, ducking under the flying clock. And then laughing harder when it hit Freed in the head while he was walking past the room.

Lucy sighed when the door closed and locked behind him, shaking her head.

Macbeth groaned, pulling Lucy closer as he got more comfortable. "Mmm… Go to sleep… It's not time to wake up yet."

"You're gonna be late for class, Macbeth," Lucy sighed.

"Mm-mm… changed it to an online class." His eyes peeked open again when she rolled over to face him, with her head lying next to his on the pillow. "That way I can do the work at night, and I don't have to leave my bed to do it."

"And you wonder why we call you Midnight," she giggled.

"Uh-huh. Nighty night time, Dawn…" Macbeth smiled softly at her, then leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead.

Lucy rolled her eyes at him when he settled back down into the pillow, then moved his arm to grab the pile of blankets. "No sleeping yet, silly. Help me pick a blanket." It was the only time Macbeth didn't use more than one blanket, when she was lying in bed with him. He said her body heat was enough to make up for the lacking layers in his cozy little cocoon.

"I thought you wanted help leaving," he chuckled.

Lucy shrugged. "I was just gonna lay around anyway since I don't have class today." She turned and smiled softly down at him. "Might as well spend the day with you, right?

Macbeth smirked and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out of them. He rummaged through the pile of blankets, then pulled out Lucy's favorite, the one that he always slept with as the bottom layer. He wasn't entirely sure why the thing always made her smile, since it was just a simple red throw blanket that was appropriately sized for use on a bed. "The same one we always use."

Lucy lit up with a wide grin, then jumped out of the bed. "Gimme a minute to get changed. I don't feel like sleeping in a miniskirt."

Macbeth nodded and watched as she rushed over to his closet and pulled out one of his shirts, then to his dresser to grab some boxers. His eyes slid closed when she walked to the bathroom to get changed, and creaked open what felt like a second later when he felt the bed dipping down while she laid down next to him. "Ready?" he whispered.

Lucy smiled and nodded. "Cuddles?" When Macbeth chuckled and opened his arms, she scooted closer quickly and tucked herself under his chin.

Macbeth sighed and rubbed a hand over her back, then frowned. Before Lucy could say anything, he grabbed the clasp on her bra and quickly undid it. "You know the rule. No bras in bed. They poke you and make you all squirmy."

Lucy rolled her eyes and reached under the shirt to pull her bra out. "Creepy rule if you ask me," she grumbled playfully. "You just wanna feel my boobs all over you."

Macbeth raised an eyebrow at her. "No. I told you to leave a couple sports bras over here. Those are fine. No wires." Sure, he absolutely loved feeling her breasts pressing against him with no bra in between them, but that wasn't why he had taken her bra off. She really did get all kinds of wiggly when she was trying to sleep with a wire bra on. If he hadn't done it then, then Lucy would have been uncomfortable for about an hour before she did it herself.

"Fair enough." She really had been told a few times by him that she could use his drawer to put some of her stuff there for sleeping when he dragged her to bed with him. And wearing a wired bra to bed was definitely some of the most uncomfortable shit to deal with. "Oh," she said quickly, looking up at him with her chin on his chest, "We're getting Taco Bell later."

"Why?"

"Because you looked like a burrito when I got here, and now I want cinnamon twists."

Macbeth laughed and shook his head. "You're insane. But alright...Tacos when we wake up."

Lucy smiled up at him and laid her head back down. After a long minute of silence, she whispered, "Macbeth?"

"Hm?"

"Please... Don't  _ever_  turn into a butterfly. Okay?"

He opened his eyes slowly to stare at her. Without blinking. For a solid minute. With a completely straight face, he said, "Lucy... What... Nevermind." It was pointless to try and understand where she came up with shit that was so off-the-wall like that. Even Erik, who might as well have been a goddamn mind reader, had a problem following her train of thought sometimes. "I promise, I won't  _ever ever ever_  turn into a butterfly."

"Are you sure? Because it'd be disgusting..." Lucy grimaced and shuddered as the mental image of Macbeth in the final stages of his transformation, all covered in mystery goop, reformed in her mind. Then she was right back to what he'd probably look like when it was all said and done. "And possibly really pretty."

"I'm sure," he deadpanned.

They stared at each other awkwardly.

Finally, Macbeth closed his eyes. "Close your eyes, Lucy. I'm not turning into a butterfly."

"Are you sure? I think I see a proboscis..." she said suspiciously.

Macbeth smirked. "I wouldn't subject you to my beautiful transformation. Sleepy time." After another minute, he whispered, "And yes, pupate is probably the creepiest word ever." A wide smile spread across his face when Lucy shuddered again and cuddled closer to him.

"No pupation for you," she whispered.

"You got it," he whispered back. "Love ya, Dawn."

Lucy smiled as her eyes finally closed. "Love you too, Midnight."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is actually one that my mom used to sing to me when she was having trouble getting me out of bed, and there is a link below for you to follow if you'd like to hear my ass singing it the way it's supposed to be done. I couldn't get my husband to agree to a video demonstration, so this is the best I can do. Well, it's not as expressive as it should be, but I'm editing this pretty early in the morning, and just recorded it while drinking my coffee.
> 
> chirb.it/5sazz1
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Oh! And the weird butterfly and burrito thing with Lucy talking to herself? That's what I was saying out loud while writing... Welcome to my strange brain, for those of you who haven't seen it before lol.


	3. Pin-Up

Lucy and Macbeth are 21.  
 _(College, Year Three)_

* * *

Macbeth was restless, to say the least. Ever since their group of friends had returned from the beach the day before, he'd been feeling this way. His skin was constantly tingling, and he was so damn tense that he was even having a hard time sleeping the day away. He rolled over onto his back on his bed as he picked up the phone from the nightstand, and sighed once he saw the time. It was already four in the afternoon, which meant he needed to get up anyway.

After he came to the realization that he didn't need to be in college for what he wanted to do with his life, he'd dropped that shit like a bad habit. Granted, it meant that he didn't get to see Lucy as often as he had before, because she couldn't just stop by his dorm on her way to another class, but even she had agreed that it was the right thing for him to do. She had even found a great special effects school for him that was only a few minutes down the road from Magnolia University. But now he was done with that, and had his certificate that showed any potential employer that he had taken a shit ton of classes to learn all kinds of different techniques for applying makeup and creating different creatures that they might want to put in their movies.

The only problem was that he had to get his foot in the door. He had two weeks before his internship started at a production company, and hopefully only a month or so before one of the artists there took him under their wing for an apprenticeship. He didn't really think he needed it, but the sweet blonde that he'd been dating for nearly a year said that it would be good for him to learn some of those little tricks that you only figure out with experience. She agreed that he probably didn't need to jump through all of those hoops, but Lucy was nothing if not an overthinker. And Macbeth already knew that she was right.

Still, he was restless as he laid in bed, staring at the image of himself and Lucy from the trip to the beach the day before when they had been lying under an umbrella. She was the reason he was feeling this way. Watching her prance around all day in a bikini had done a number on him, just like the oil that he'd spread over her whole body so she could try to tan - even though he liked how she looked with her light complexion - and feeling her pressed up against him while they were out in the water. She was the only reason he had been willing to go in the first place, since the thought of lounging around in the sun was wholly deplorable as far as he was concerned. But, damn had it been worth it.

Seeing the water bead up while her tanning oil repelled it from soaking into her skin completely, and watching those lucky little droplets gliding down her curves was pure torture. The way her string bikini would ride up just slightly while she was running across the sand, exposing just a little more of her ass was fucking heaven. Just like seeing her top struggling to contain her breasts while she bounced around. Those little red triangles that were trimmed with black were the luckiest damn things in existence.

"Fucking hell," he whispered, running a hand over his face in frustration. The picture itself was making him think about just how damn sexy she was, and how he wanted to have her in his bed right then. Then again, it was probably for the best that Lucy had plans that day, and that she wouldn't be stopping by, since it would only make it harder to keep himself under control. After nearly a year of being together, they hadn't gotten past second base. He didn't really mind it, since he was letting Lucy set the pace. Besides, before her birthday the year before, he had thought that he would never get to do more than cuddle with her. What did it matter if he had to wait for her to be ready to take another step physically? They were already best friends long before they'd started dating, so it wasn't like they were lacking for things to do  _aside_  from all of that.

Nibbling his lower lip, Macbeth unlocked his phone and went to his gallery. He scrolled past the different albums he had, then stopped when he got to his favorite.  _Lucy._  It had all kinds of pictures of the blonde in it, but there were a select few that he was looking for. The ones that he'd taken of her posing in the sand, with her hair slowly drying after they lost the game of chicken against Erik and Bickslow.

He clicked on the first in the set, and felt himself hardening and his mouth watering. There, on her knees in the sand, with the sheer black sarong she had been wearing billowing in the air behind her, was Lucy. She was smiling brightly at the camera, with her arms in the air and her back arched ever so slightly. Just enough to make his breath die in his throat.

Macbeth swiped over to the next picture, and knew he was a damn goner. It was when they had disappeared behind the towering rocks off to the side of their belongings. Lucy had said she wanted to give him a few special shots, so he'd taken her over there. Her back was pressed to the rocks, and her hands were tangled in her hair. Those perfectly pouty lips of hers were slightly swollen with how he'd been kissing her only moments before the picture was taken, and there was a healthy flush across her cheeks. His eyes raked over her, from the sultry look in her penetrating gaze down to the swell of her chest, her sinfully small waist and down further to her long, slender legs.

Macbeth was fully aware of just how lucky he was to have a total bombshell for a girlfriend. He'd caught enough guys staring at the pair of them at the beach, and pretty much anywhere else they went, to have figured that one out. No matter how much any of those assholes wanted to see her like this though, he was the only one that had.

Without another thought, Macbeth dropped his phone to the bed and pulled his boxers down until his fully erect member sprung free. There was a bottle of Lucy's lotion sitting on his nightstand, so he wouldn't need to use his spit this time around, and right next to it was a box of tissues from when she'd been sick and stayed at his place so he could take care of her.  _'Perfect,'_  he thought while grabbing a couple and laying them down on his stomach. With how worked up he was, it probably wouldn't be too long before he was done, but that didn't really matter to him. Who did he need to impress with his ability to last when it was just him and his hand? If anything, rubbing one out quickly would probably do wonders for this tension in him.

He picked the phone up again and swiped to the next picture while he slowly gripped his aching shaft. Lucy had untied her top, and was holding the two strings in her hands just above the triangles that barely covered her breasts. "Jesus," he rasped, licking his lips as he started slowly gliding his hand from the base of his shaft to his tip. His thumb circled the flared head, working from just under the ridge to the very tip and back before sliding back down.

He moved to the next picture - where Lucy had removed her top completely and was covering her breasts with her arm while she nibbled on her lip - and let out a soft groan when his cock twitched excitedly. This was the last picture in the little "spank bank" set she had him take, but he didn't really need more to get himself off. His back arched slightly as he pictured what it would be like to hear her moaning his name, and a low hiss escaped him when his skin began tingling more insistently. All he could do was think of what it would be like for Lucy to touch him this way, how her dainty hand would wrap around him and start experimentally stroking his cock. "Fuck," he groaned, lifting his hips slightly as he started thrusting into his hand.

A shuddering breath escaped him when a large droplet of moisture beaded at the tip, and he quickly swiped it down over himself. "God, Lucy," he whispered, groaning again when just her name passing his lips had his hand slammed down to the base unconsciously. There definitely wasn't enough moisture for him to get too much further, but he just didn't want this to stop.

His eyes rolled back when his mind decided to conjure up just what it would be like to have Lucy's lips around him, the suction she would use to pull him closer and closer to the edge. He could practically feel her cheeks hollowing out and brushing over his cock, and her tongue circling his tip. The phone dropped forgotten to the bed while Macbeth groaned and closed his eyes, thrusting more urgently into his hand. Using his thumb and forefinger, he made a tight ring and pushed into it just until his head had breached the small hole before retreating. "Oh fuck," he gasped. "Fuck, Lucy…"

His hips rolled as his hand slid down again, a full-body shiver running through him when he felt himself bounding toward his release. It was surprising that the added friction from not using any lubricant wasn't stopping him, but Macbeth couldn't care less. He needed this, and if the pounding of blood rushing through him was any indication, he would need a shower after this was done. His lip pulled up into a small sneer as he ground his teeth together, hissing in pleasure and the smallest bit of pain. Nothing in the world was going to stop him, not even to grab that damn lotion that was well within reach.

Macbeth's eyes shot open when there was a loud pounding on his front door. No way in hell was he going to stop when he was so damn close. Whoever it was could go fuck themselves. Just like he was in the process of doing right then. His eyes closed again as another image of Lucy popped up, and he gulped down air while he kept going. The hand that previously held his phone fisted in the sheet until his knuckles were paler than normal, and a low groan left him when he felt the pressure mounting in the base of his spine. "Oh god, Lucy... Fuck yes," he rasped, imagining just how she would feel clamping down on his cock while she crested her own peak into bliss.

The pounding on his door wasn't stopping. If anything, it only got louder and more urgent. With a slew of curses falling from his lips, Macbeth balled the tissues in his hand and threw them away, then jumped to his feet and started marching toward the door, stopping just long enough to pull up his boxers and throw on a pair of pajama pants and adjusting himself so he wasn't pitching a tent while he ripped into whoever the sorry bastard was that was interrupting him. He stalked through his apartment, then whipped the door open with a deep scowl on his face that melted in an instant when he was greeted with the sight of Lucy giving him a sheepish smile. Soaking fucking wet. "Lucy?"

"Hey," she laughed in embarrassment, shivering slightly. "So… I m-may have forgotten my umbrella… And my k-k-keys…?"

Macbeth frowned and looked out past her to see that it was apparently pouring. The blinds in his apartment were all shut, so he hadn't realized that the lovely rainy season that started up a few weeks after Spring had finally arrived. "Come on in," he said softly once he looked back down at her, moving to the side so she could get past him. He nearly laughed when she made a mad dash into his apartment, then looked back out one more time before closing and locking the door behind him.

Lucy wrapped her arms around herself while kicking off her soaked flats. Macbeth's hand landed on her lower back, and she gave him a grateful smile when he started leading her through his home toward his bedroom. Once they reached his room, she pulled away and started peeling her clothes off as quickly as possible while he went to grab her a towel. Another violent shiver ran through her once she was down to her bra and panties as the cool air hit her skin, and she turned around when Macbeth came back into the room.

He paused in his step when he saw her standing in the middle of his room in nothing more than some of the sexiest red lingerie he'd ever seen in his life. The erection that he had been forcing himself to forget about came right back to life when she turned to face him, and he swallowed thickly as he made sure to only hand her the towel instead of tackling her to the bed. Normally, he would have grabbed a shirt and pair of boxers for her, since Lucy said his clothes were even more comfortable than even her favorite pair of sweatpants. That didn't happen though, since he just ended up getting lost in thought concerning the beautiful woman in his room.

Lucy smiled up at him while she started patting herself dry. "You're the best," she said happily. She looked at him for another moment, then a frown pulled at the corners of her mouth when she saw the vacant look in his eyes. "Macbeth?"

He jolted when he heard his name, then gave Lucy a tight smile. "Oh, sorry..."

"Is there something wrong?"

Macbeth shook his head quickly. "No, you just… Look really cold. Dry off, okay? I'll make some tea to warm you up."

A wide grin split across Lucy's face, and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around him. She loved that he always knew just what to do to help her, and that he was always looking out for her. Sure, it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, running out in the rain without her umbrella the way she had. Especially not when she just got over being sick not that long ago. Granted, it had looked like it was just going to keep hardly sprinkling when she left her apartment. She hadn't thought the sky was going to try drowning her once she was far enough from home that it would have been pointless to turn back. He didn't return the hug, and that was when her eyes went wide. Something thick and heavy was poking her in the stomach, and based on how angry he had looked when he answered the door, she could only assume that he had been in the middle of something. "Oh!" she squeaked, pulling away quickly and averting her eyes. "I'm interrupting... Shit... Uh, sorry!"

A deep flush crossed Macbeth's cheeks, and he was silently hoping she wouldn't look at his face right then to see it. He didn't go to bed with his makeup on, so there was no way it would be hidden. "Y-You're good," he stuttered, internally face palming.  _'Really? You're gonna stutter right now? God you're fucking pathetic...'_

Lucy kept her gaze trained on the floor, hoping with everything she was worth that he couldn't see how much she was blushing. It wasn't that she didn't want to do more than some heavy petting over their clothes - which ended up being him touching her, since she would get too embarrassed to do anything to reciprocate - because she did. It was just... Well, it was embarrassing. Sure, that was a pretty pathetic answer, but it was the best she had.

After a moment of silence, she looked down at her soaked pants and cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought to bring her purse or her laptop bag since she was already running late - and thank god for small favors now that she knew it was a wise choice - so her phone was sitting in the back pocket of her jeans. She dropped the towel and grabbed her pants, searching frantically for her phone. Once it was in her hand, she tried turning the screen on, and found that the stupid thing wasn't working. "Damnit..."

Macbeth stayed rooted to the spot once he saw her bending over. Of course Lucy wouldn't just crouch down to grab her phone. Nope, the universe hated him. She bent over at the waist with her back to him, which gave him a perfect view of the lace disappearing between her cheeks. Which, by the way, were bare and showing off the lovely tan lines she had gotten the day before.  _'Oh god, just kill me now. I'll die happy... I really will...'_

Lucy pursed her lips then noticed Macbeth's phone sitting on his bed. Jackpot. She dropped hers to the bed and picked his up with a wide smile. "Hey, lemme use your phone real quick. I've gotta call Erik and let him know I'm here. We were supposed to meet up so he could tutor me in Chem."

Macbeth broke free from his stupor just as she unlocked his phone. "Shit, no! Wait! Don't-"

Lucy blinked repeatedly when she saw the pictures on his phone from the beach. Specifically, the ones that she had him take for himself. She didn't really think he would be that into it, but he apparently was. And damn, it made her feel like an asshole for interrupting him the way she had.

She backed out of the current picture, then raised her eyebrows in surprise while scrolling through the gallery. There were tons of pictures of just her from over the years. In a bikini, lounging at home in sweats, ones she made Macbeth take of her trying on new outfits, her putting on makeup, even selfies she took with his phone. She remembered those times when he randomly took pictures of her, and how she asked him to take some of them, but she didn't think he would really have kept all of these. "M-Macbeth?"

Macbeth's face was on fire as he snatched his phone away from her and closed the gallery. Without a word, he went to his phonebook and started the call for Erik. He all but threw the phone at Lucy, and quickly walked out his room before his face just melted right the fuck off. He still needed to make some tea, and she needed privacy to get herself dressed. He wanted to stay in there, but Lucy would be the one to let him know when she wanted that. It was probably for the best anyway. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to handle watching her get dressed - after getting undressed - without it becoming even more obvious just how much she affected him.

Lucy frowned while she watched Macbeth practically run out of the room, putting the phone to her ear. Within only a few rings, Erik answered.

"What is it, fucknugget?" Erik nearly growled.

Lucy rolled her eyes, her frown disappearing into a fond smile. "Try again," she giggled.

"Oh. Hey, Bright Eyes," Erik chuckled, his voice softening along with his smile. "What's up?"

"Well," Lucy sighed, "I'm at Macbeth's."

"I figured as much."

"I-"

"Lemme guess," Erik said with a grin, "You forgot your umbrella again, your phone got fucked up...  _Again_... And you wanna reschedule."

Lucy pouted while she picked the towel up and started drying her hair. "Shut up, I'm not  _that_ predictable..."

"Lucy." She winced at the serious tone of his voice. "Every time it rains, you forget your umbrella," he continued while leaning back on his couch. "I'm surprised you even have one... You never use it."

"Five," she mumbled. "Sometimes I buy a new one when I get caught outside without it..."

"So, why didn't you do that this time?"

"Because I forgot my wallet and keys at home," she answered. When he was silent, she sighed and shook her head. She was kind of an idiot sometimes. "And I don't even have my book... Or my laptop."

"What the fuck were you planning on doing over here then?" Erik laughed. "Unless you've been backing everything up online?"

"Oh, fuck you, Mr. Genius!" Lucy nearly shouted.

"I'll take that as a no."

Lucy sighed and threw the towel down on the floor with her soaked clothing. "You're so mean to me..."

"Nah, you know I love ya. How's your knight in pajama armor?"

Lucy sighed again and looked at the bedroom door. "I think he's mad at me..."

Erik rolled his eyes at that. Macbeth hardly ever got mad at Lucy. She usually thought he was mad at her when it was really just her being a goddamn paranoid lunatic. "I doubt it. What happened?" He paused and smirked. "Did you catch him jerking it?"

"Well..." Lucy winced and pulled the phone away from her ear when Erik's laughter boomed through the small speaker.

"Holy fuck! B-Bright Eyes... He's..." Cobra snorted and dropped the phone to the floor while he held his stomach from bursting at the seams. After several deep breaths, he picked it back up and said, "He sure as shit isn't mad at you, Lucy. Poor fucker is probably just trying to keep his shit under control."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked curiously. "It's not like he's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde..."

"Nah, but he's got a sexy bitch for a girlfriend, and he's had the hots for you for fucking  _years_. If anything, he's embarrassed as hell. What kinda porn was it anyway? Probably some freaky BDSM shit, right?"

Lucy blushed and shook her head, then remembered he couldn't actually see her. "No, umm... Just some pictures from the beach yester-"

"Seriously?" Erik chuckled. "He was battling with his purple-headed yogurt slinger-"

Lucy choked. On what, she wasn't entirely sure, but the oddest strangled noise escaped her at Erik's euphemism.

"- to pictures of  _you_ , not even some other chick... Or anything fucking weird... And he's being a bitch?"

"Yes...?"

"Well, are you gonna do anything about your boyfriend having to jerk off all the damn time?"

"W-Well... Uh... I guess? Maybe?" Lucy answered awkwardly. Ever since Erik had gotten into a serious, solid relationship with Bickslow two years before, he had become much more willing to talk about things like this with her. It was comforting at times, knowing that the one she had dubbed her older brother - by exactly three days, it turns out - was willing to talk to her so openly about it. But, times like this? It was kinda weird.

"No, she's not just gonna fuck him, Bix," Erik said, turning his head from the phone slightly. "Yeah, I know they've been together for a while."

"Erik-" Lucy tried to say, only to roll her eyes when he cut her off by apparently having a miniature argument with his live-in boyfriend.

"If she's not gonna fuck him, what the hell makes you think  _anal_  is the next logical step?" Erik asked incredulously.

Lucy blanched and stared at the floor in horror. No, thank you. She would  _not_  be getting anything shoved up her ass. "Yeah, I'll pass on that one…"

"She says no to anal," Erik chuckled. There was a long pause of total silence on the phone, then his voice returned. "Bright Eyes, what  _have_  you guys done, anyway?"

"Uh… W-Well," Lucy stuttered. "I kinda don't want to talk about that…"

"Second base, Bix," Erik said.

"I never said that!" Lucy shouted.

"And he fingered her. Once, I'd say," Erik added.

"Erik, stop that! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Am I wrong?"

"W-Well, no! But..." Lucy felt her face heating up enough to rival a volcano, and quickly covered it with her free hand.

"Mmkay, Sex-On-A-Stick over here says you should finish what Narco Boy started," Erik finally said. "Hand or mouth, your choice." When he heard Lucy sputtering while trying to find a response, and the way her voice got just a little more high-pitched and panicky by the second, he frowned and put a finger to his lips to silence Bickslow. "Lucy, you alright?"

"Y-Yeah," she whispered.

"You don't have to, y'know," he sighed, all the humor leaving his voice. "I just figured you wanted to, and you just couldn't decide or something."

Lucy let out a heavy breath and shook her head. "That's not it, Erik. I  _do_. It's just… Embarrassing…"

"Well, he's not gonna push you to do a damn thing," he said. "If you want more, then you'll have to let him know. He was there when that shit happened, remember?"

"Trust me," she answered with a soft, sad smile. "I remember. I'm still surprised you didn't get arrested for murder."

"No one hurts my baby sister and gets away with it," he growled. Just shy of five years later, and what Lucy had gone through still ate at him. When Bickslow gave him a concerned, questioning look, Erik simply shook his head, then laid down on his boyfriend's lap. His eye slid closed while that familiar touch started feathering across his cheek and up through his hair. "Regardless, he knows you've gotta be the one to do it. He won't make a move until you do."

"I wish he would," she whispered, shuffling in place slightly while staring at her toes.

"Think about it this way, Bright Eyes. Foreplay is a game of chess. Who starts in chess?"

"White."

"And what color does he  _always_  play?"

"... Black, but-"

"Which means, you're white. You start the game." He paused and glanced up at Bickslow to see a soft smile on his lover's face that was mirrored with one of his own. "He'll follow your lead, and when it comes time for a checkmate, you'll be ready."

"That doesn't exactly work as a good analogy, Erik," she laughed softly. "No one wants to lose at chess."

"Sure, but the game is rigged," he replied with a wicked grin. "Checkmate, no matter who takes the king in this scenario, just means you're starting a different game. More like checkers. Besides, I'm sure Midnight won't have a problem letting you check his king."

Lucy smiled when she heard Bickslow's cackling laughter in the background. "Thanks, Cobra. We'll see what happens."

"Sure thing, Bright Eyes. I'm gonna catch up on some shows and shit. Maybe play some chess…" The look on Bickslow's face when he gazed back down into Erik's single amethyst eye was all he needed to know that there would be a whole lot of what he was hinting at. "Shit… Or three…"

"Have fun with that." No sooner were the words out of her mouth, and the line went dead. Lucy laughed again and shook her head. Those two were absolutely ridiculous. It was a miracle Erik and Bickslow ever left their apartment. She slowly walked out to the living room, and made her way around the couch when she saw Macbeth sitting with his head in his hands and his elbows resting on his knees. She carefully set his phone down on the coffee table, then moved to kneel in front of him. "I didn't mean to interrupt, y'know," she whispered with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Just call me Cockblock Lucy, yeah?"

Macbeth shook his head as he said, "It's not a big deal, Dawn." He sighed when she lifted his head to look at her. "So… what's up?"

"Erik's about to get his brains banged right out of him by Bix," she said with a shrug. "And…" She fidgeted for a moment before deciding it was high time she took Erik's advice where her love life was concerned. She knew what he had been trying to tell her, without saying it outright because Bickslow had been with him. Macbeth was her best friend, and she trusted him above pretty much everyone else. So, even though her face was on fire, she slowly moved forward to kneel between his legs, letting her hands hesitantly trail up from his ankles.

Macbeth's eyes widened slightly. "Lucy, what are you-" When he felt her lips pressing tenderly to his, a small groan escaped him. He couldn't help it. It had always been that way when they kissed. Just the barest touch from her rose petal lips and he was a goner. Totally addicted. When her hands reached the midpoint of his thighs and she hesitated, he sighed and placed his own over them to stop her timid exploration. "You're fine, baby," he whispered.

Lucy nibbled her lip for a moment, then crawled up into his lap, her legs straddling his hips and her fingers instantly seeking out the long white braid she always played with. "Macbeth, aren't you tired of waiting?" she asked softly. Erik said Macbeth was waiting for her to make a move, but he had stopped her when she was trying to. Maybe she just wasn't good at taking the lead… Which meant they wouldn't ever get past where they were.

"It'll happen whenever you're ready, Dawn," he said with an understanding smile. "I don't mind." And he really didn't. He'd been there for her every step of the way over the past five years while she tried to deal with what had happened, and he knew just how long it had taken for her to even be willing to talk to someone about it. That someone had been him. Not the psychologists, not Erik, or Seilah and Kyouka. Him. He could see the way her cheeks had flared to life, burning a brilliant shade of red while she looked down at him. Lucy was embarrassed as hell when it came to intimacy, she always had been, and that was something he didn't want for her. So, he decided to try and make light of the situation, and get her to feel a little more comfortable. "Besides, my hand might get lonely," he chuckled.

Lucy giggled and rolled her eyes. Leave it to her boyfriend to help her relax a bit. She really did want more, but the thought of actually doing anything, and being the one to initiate it, was something she just couldn't wrap her head around. Maybe it was one of those things that just happened in the heat of the moment, instead of her walking out and jumping right to it. It's not like she really knew the proper way to say,  _"Hey, I'm gonna finish what you started, so pull down your pants and let me see your dick."_ She slowly leaned forward and brought her lips to his again, smiling into the kiss when he pulled his hands from hers to wrap his arms around her waist.

Macbeth drew back in surprise when he felt bare skin beneath his fingertips, then looked down to see that she had never actually gotten dressed. He wasn't aware of the fact that his mouth had actually dropped open while he drank in the sight of his half-naked girlfriend sitting in his lap. He did know that he was only moments from drooling though, and it had everything to do with the ample cleavage that was right in his line of sight. When the light, lilting laugh of hers reached his ears, he tore his hungry gaze from her chest and looked up at her.

Lucy had never really noticed before just how much Macbeth liked the way she looked, but she did then. Even the day before, while they were at the beach, she hadn't realized that he was looking at her - or trying his damnedest  _not_  to - like he wanted to eat her alive. "Midnight," she crooned playfully once her brown eyes met with his red, "See something you like?" That look gave her confidence she hadn't had before. She was the one that made him feel like this, that gave his eyes a fire she hadn't ever noticed before.

When Macbeth absently nodded, Lucy felt it. That desire to push past her own self-imposed celibacy was flaring to life, and she shot forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss that left her breathless. A low moan left her when he pulled her closer to him, and she shivered when she felt his bare chest pressing against her.

Macbeth's hands slid over her back, stopping at the strap of her bra before going back down to her hips. He inhaled sharply when her tongue plunged forcefully between his lips, and froze for only a moment when he realized that he was roughly palming her ass. Before he could even begin to worry about doing something Lucy hadn't wanted, the most erotic noise he'd ever heard from her filled the air around them. His hands drew slow circles over the bare cheeks, then lightly squeezed, and she did it again. A long moan vibrated through her lips and into his as their tongues battled wildly.

He wasn't sure just what had come over Lucy, but he had a feeling it had something to do with her talking to Erik. The one-eyed bastard was a total prick when it came to pretty much everything, but Lucy was one of the exceptions. Macbeth already knew that she talked about their 'sex life', or lack thereof, with him because he'd walked in on her talking on the phone with him about it a few months back. Her sudden willingness to jump his bones and turn him into the happiest pile of goo on his couch was most likely because of Erik, and Macbeth knew then and there that he was going to have to thank the guy. Eventually. For now, all he was going to focus on was the fact that Lucy was reaching behind herself and popping the clasp of her bra.

Lucy whimpered when she felt her nipples hardening from the sudden temperature change once her bra was tossed to the side. To try and warm herself back up a little bit, she pressed her chest to Macbeth's only to shiver again once she felt his skin. This was the first time she had ever actually been bare from the waist up with him. Any time before they started dating that she had been topless was either accidental or because they were all drinking and playing strip poker, so she didn't count those. She broke away from the kiss for air just when his hand started travelling up from her ass to her breast.

Macbeth lowered his lips to her throat when the creamy mound was finally in his grasp. He already knew that Lucy had a large chest - he would have to be blind not to notice that - and while he'd groped the hell out of her chest before, it was only ever over a shirt and bra. Apparently, Lucy was skipping the whole concept of him pushing his hand under her shirt, and he was definitely fine with that. The way she whispered his name so breathily had a long groan barreling up from his chest while he kissed the small scar on her throat from all those years ago. It was obvious to him that she wanted more than just the experimental touches they had been doing before. How much, he wasn't sure, but he would just have to wait for her to tell him to stop.

Her hips rolled slightly, and Macbeth's eyes rolled back when he felt her barely covered sex brushing over his reawakening arousal. With a small quirk to his lips against her slender throat, he decided to take the lead, at least for the time being. His other hand slid over her hip, slowly trailing up the smooth expanse of her stomach until it finally reached her unattended breast. Lucy was outgoing when it came to pretty much anything, except for this. He had experience though, and he was more than willing to teach her everything he knew. And to let her explore as much as she wanted. As long as it was what she really wanted, he didn't mind it one bit.

Lucy could feel him hardening between her legs, and a sharp gasp filled her lungs when his thumbs brushed over her pebbled nipples. She didn't realize it until she felt the most wonderful friction between them, but her thighs had flexed and ground her core against him. Her eyes slid closed when his tongue dragged up the column of her throat to lightly nibble on her ear, a breathy moan slipping past her lips. It was definitely strange to feel his soft hands - something that killed her inside because they were even softer than her own - kneading the large mounds with no barrier between them, but she couldn't find it in herself to care when she heard just how husky his voice was.

"I love you," he whispered, the breath rushing from him swiftly when her hand shot between them and her fingers wrapped around his straining arousal. "Holy shit…" It was everything he'd imagined, and so much more. He knew the size of her hands, how she wouldn't be able to hold all of him no matter how hard she tried. What he hadn't realized though was that the release he had been denied by her arrival was going to fucking kill him. Well, as far as he was concerned, it was. The tension he'd been trying to work off had only increased the longer it was held at bay, and now he actually had to fight to keep it under wraps so he didn't freak her right the hell out. Or shame himself by cumming just from her touching him through his clothes.

Lucy traced the length of his cock, and squeaked when Macbeth pulled her down into a searing kiss that had her toes curling. Her free hand tangled roughly in his hair as she grew more confident, taking the long groans he was letting loose as a sign that she was doing something right. She wasn't sure when she had turned into a sex fiend, but she was desperate to feel him in her hand, to taste his very essence as it burst across her tongue.  _'Hand or mouth… Why not both?'_  She quickly pushed her hand beneath his pants and boxers, her eyes shooting open when Macbeth went stone-still.

Lucy found herself absolutely captivated by the sight of him looking up at her in shock, his beautiful crimson eyes having darkened to a rich wine color. She had taken an anatomy class or two, so she knew the basics of what she was feeling. Granted, it was entirely different to have it in her hand as opposed to looking at a picture in a book. The skin was smoother than she would have thought, and was only broken up by a thick vein running along the bottom. Her eyes stayed locked onto his while she slowly traced that single vein up to the ridge of his head. Using just the tip of her finger, Lucy circled it carefully, watching as his eyes widened even further. "Like this?" she whispered, the uncertainty clear in her voice.

"God yes," he answered breathlessly. She smiled happily down at him, but he couldn't find it in himself to give her one in return. Not when it was taking everything in him to stay rooted to the spot. Lucy needed this chance to explore, to take her time and find out just what he liked and how she should touch him on her own. Except, he was so fucking close already that it was nearly painful to hold himself back. "Just like… that… Oh, fuck…"

Lucy's grip on his shaft tightened marginally, and she paused when he let out a loud moan as his eyes slid closed. Once his hands started moving over her, taking in every inch of her bare flesh from her breasts and stomach to her exposed ass and thighs, she whimpered and slanted her mouth over his while she started stroking his cock with more purpose. She wasn't sure exactly who did it, or if it was a combination of the both of them, but when she pulled back for air he was laid out on his couch with her lying on top of him.

Macbeth groaned again when her fingers swiped over the moisture that had collected at the tip, brushing it down over him while she started moving just a little faster. "Oh god… Shit, Lucy," he gasped. "Fuck, don't stop…"

Lucy smiled down at him. She had never made him sound like this before. The usually quiet man she had fallen in love with had disappeared for the time being. In his place was the sexiest doppleganger she could have asked for. His black and white hair was splayed wildly across the arm of the couch. His unpainted lips were a deeper shade of pink than normal from how intensely they had been kissing. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were heavily lidded with lust. But his voice. Good god, was his voice sexy like this. He sounded desperate, and his voice was so gravelly that every syllable sent a violent shiver down her spine right to her fingers and toes. "I won't," she whispered huskily, giving him one last short kiss before she started crawling off of his lap.

Macbeth absently lifted his hips when he saw Lucy's slim fingers tucking themselves into the waistbands of the only two articles of clothing he was wearing. She pulled his pants and boxers down without preamble, simply baring his body to her as quickly as possible, and he was left panting while she hungrily devoured him with her eyes alone.

She felt like she was just staring, and wondered if it was weird for her to do so. But she couldn't help it. She had seen Macbeth naked only a handful of times - between drunken poker games and purely accidental run-ins when they were younger - but she had never seen him naked  _and_  aroused. That thick vein she felt was almost begging for her lips to wrap around it. His flushed head wept with proof of his need for her. Her hand lightly gripped him, and she noticed that she couldn't actually get her fingers to touch.  _'Oh my god, this thing is huge!'_  Sure, she didn't have much in the way of experience where a dick was concerned, but she hadn't realized that her hand would look so much smaller like this.

Slowly, with a shuddering breath of anticipation, Lucy moved down to his base, nibbling her lip while her fingers brushed through the two-toned patch of hair above his cock. That was one thing that she had always known about him, mainly because Erik had developed a tendency to pants Macbeth when they were in high school. Everyone thought the guy dyed his hair to go along with the whole "glam rock, sort of emo, maybe a little goth" look he had going on, but it was naturally black and white.

Macbeth let out a shaky breath when her fingers brushed through those short hairs before her hand glided back up to his tip. He knew he needed to give her time to explore, especially since Lucy was one of the most curious women he had ever met, but there was really only so much he could handle. If anything, she could do this another time. He wouldn't have an issue with lying around while he was completely soft, and watching her learn all about his dick. Hell, that actually sounded insanely sexy. Watching as she slowly stroked him, waking his body up, and then... Once he was hard, she could... "Fuck, Lucy," he groaned, his member twitching excitedly as a picture of her bouncing wildly on his cock manifested itself.

Lucy looked back up at Macbeth's face again, and finally saw how his jaw had tensed while he held his hands over his head, tightly gripping the arm of the couch. As she knelt between his legs, Lucy looked over his body, taking in every inch of pale flesh that was laid out before her like some scrumptious Midnight buffet. From just how light his complexion was to the small scars that were on his chest and arms from before they had met. The lightly defined muscles of his chest and stomach. His thin hips, hooded eyes, parted lips, flushed cheeks. Everything about him had her core clenching with desire.

She hesitantly lowered her head, wondering if she would be able to please him. She didn't really have any clue what the hell she was doing, but several extremely uncomfortable conversations with Bickslow and Erik had given her at least a general idea of what to do. She really hadn't wanted to know that Erik was a screamer in the bedroom, or that Bickslow's tongue was long enough to wrap around her older brother's shaft and that Erik usually came pretty quickly when he did it. Hell, she didn't want to know that Erik apparently had no gag reflex either.

Luckily, they had given her some serious pointers in the process of scarring her for life. Like how she needed to wrap her lips around her teeth to minimize any uncomfortable friction. How any slight movement from her tongue was going to feel amazing for the guy. Most importantly, that the head was the most sensitive. Also, any guy that gets shitty over having her spit dripping down while she's mouth-fucking them is 'a little bitch that doesn't deserve a dick, let alone a blowjob', as far as both Erik and Bickslow were concerned.

 _"Bright Eyes, whenever you get to that point, just do what comes naturally to you. Don't overthink it. He'll tell you if it's something he doesn't like..."_ Erik had told her that day.

 _"Yeah, Cosplayer. I hear it's a pretty big turn-on teaching someone just what you like,"_  Bickslow had added, turning his attention to Erik and causing the latter to blush.  _"Especially when they've never given a blowjob before."_

_"It really is, Bright Eyes. He's gonna love being the first one you do that with. I know that's how it was the first time Bix went down on me."_

Lucy slowly opened her eyes, not realizing she had closed them in the first place, and found that while she was having her own little moment in her head, she had apparently started brushing her tongue lightly up and down the length of his shaft. And Macbeth was already panting. "Is... Is this good?" she whispered as she slowly pulled her lips away from him.

Macbeth gave Lucy a soft smile and brought one hand down to tenderly stroke her cheek. "You're doing fine."

Lucy kept her eyes locked onto his, and spread the moisture on his member down over him with her hand. She watched as he moaned softly while his hand stilled on her cheek. "Show me what to do, Midnight," she rasped sensually. "Please?"

Macbeth felt his lips pulling into a smirk, and his thumb glided effortlessly over her flushed cheek to push her chin down. He guided her open mouth to his aching cock, taking a shaky breath when her lips grazed his swollen head. He hadn't thought Lucy would want to do something like this when she had never even touched him below the belt before that day, but he was perfectly fine with being wrong. His fingers sifted through her hair as he pulled her forward gently, pushing those perfectly plump lips down until his head was nestled in her warm cavern.

Lucy's tongue flattened over him, and that was when she tasted it. Just a small droplet of moisture had beaded at the slit, and it was almost like she had dipped her tongue in sugar water. She nearly pouted when he pulled her head back, but she was instantly rewarded by him pushing her further down.

"That's it, Lucy," he whispered, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Slow and…" He trailed off, groaning softly when he hit her gag reflex. "God, that's amazing…"

She smiled around his shaft and withdrew completely, openly swiping her tongue over his head in the hopes of tasting him again. Her lips closed around him and a long moan left her when she got that small treat she was searching for. An answering groan from her boyfriend had her eyes widening when he tightened his grip on her hair and slammed her head down.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes when she gagged, but his hand instantly relaxed. Macbeth had to fight with everything he was worth to let Lucy adjust, especially since he felt like he was going to blow any second. They had hardly even started, and he was going to look like a damn minuteman because of how worked up he was. When she slammed down of her own accord, with her lips already covering her teeth, he moaned loudly and dropped his other hand to her head. "S-Suck, baby... Like a...  _Mmm_... A lollipop."

Lucy's eyes lit up at that.  _That_ was something she knew a lot about. She lightly sucked while she withdrew, swallowing the excess saliva that collected in her mouth. Once her lips were just past the prominent ridge, her tongue drew quick circles around and around, pulling some of the most surprisingly sexy curses from Macbeth. As she kept bobbing her head quickly, alternating between deep plunges and short bursts with rough suction, Lucy finally realized just what Erik and Bickslow had been trying to tell her.

She was moving on instinct alone, instead of trying to think about what might feel best for him. Every time he hissed she would adjust to make sure her teeth weren't scraping over him - which she was glad that it happened only a couple times. When he started cursing, it meant he really liked what she was doing, and when he couldn't actually form a single word was when she knew that he loved it.

Her hand moved to the base of his shaft as she moaned around him again, and his hands finally left her hair to rub everywhere else he could reach. She could feel his hands trembling, and just the thought of him trusting her, that he was letting her do what she pleased instead of guiding her, gave her even more confidence in her ability to please him.

Listening to him descend into half-formed words and garbled bastardizations of her name was so damn empowering.  _She_  was the one that made him feel that way.  _She_  was the one he wanted and loved. Her eyes stayed trained on his face, watching every single move he made. She could feel his shaft getting more rigid in her mouth, and looked at him curiously when his eyes shot open to stare at her in shock.

"Fuck!" Macbeth shouted as his body locked up with no warning whatsoever. Well, he'd had plenty of warning that he was going to cum, but Lucy had inadvertently been bringing him right to the edge, then backing off over and over again. Now though, he couldn't stop his back from arching as he erupted in her mouth. There hadn't been enough time to even push her away, let alone tell her what was about to happen.

Lucy's eyes went wide when the first shot of his release pumped into her mouth and across her tongue. Wasn't the guy supposed to give some sort of warning? Like,  _"I'm cumming!"_ or something? Then again, he looked pretty surprised by it happening, so maybe there hadn't been time. Regardless, she kept her mouth clamped around his shaft. No way in hell was she going to pull away and get it all over the place. Sadly though, the taste was something she hadn't been expecting. His precum had been so sweet that she had assumed this would be the same. And it kind of was, but... Not. It was much stronger, slightly bitter, and the texture was so thick that she thought she would choke. She probably could have gotten past the taste, but the texture was unnerving.

Macbeth shuddered, panting and staring at the blonde goddess with her face in his lap in wonder. He had expected her to freak the hell out over him just up and blowing his load in her mouth with no warning, but she didn't. "O-Oh god," he whimpered when she lightly sucked every last drop out of him. Her tongue teased his slit, and he whimpered again until it was just too much for him to handle. His skin was hyper-sensitive, every inch of his body both thrumming with energy and about to dissolve into a gelatinous mass right then and there. "L-Lucy... Stop..."

She froze and looked worriedly up at him, wondering if she had done something wrong. His skin was flushed all the way down his throat and onto his collar bones, and there was a thin sheen of sweat that she could just barely make out on his chest. She slowly pulled away with her lips tightly shut and his climax sitting under her tongue. Her eyes slid closed when he gently caressed her cheek and she heard him let out a shaky breath.

"I'm really sensitive afterwards," he whispered soothingly, a soft chuckle leaving him when she slowly opened her eyes again. "That was..." He paused and let out a shaky sigh while a lazy smile spread across his face. "Incredible."

Lucy smiled up at him, leaning into his hand. After another moment, she gave him a sly wink and jumped up from the couch, making her way directly to the bathroom down the hall. Once the light was on, she quickly spit everything out into the sink, turning on the water and grabbing the spare toothbrush she kept at his apartment for the times she stayed the night. It was while she was brushing her teeth that she saw him walking in through the open bathroom door. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she smiled and blushed when his slender arms wrapped around her still-bare waist, and her blush deepened when she saw the smallest quirk to the corner of his mouth. "Don't judge me," she mumbled around the toothbrush, then leaned forward slightly and started rinsing her mouth.

Macbeth chuckled softly, his nose brushing across the back of her neck. Once Lucy met his gaze again, he said, "No judgment, Dawn. I would probably have had the same reaction if I came in my mouth." When she rolled her eyes at him, his smile widened.

"That's different, Midnight."

"Probably..." He shrugged and let his hands trail slowly over her bare skin, pausing only when he reached the tops of her red lace panties that were still soaked from the rain. "You should really get some dry clothes on," he whispered. "I don't want you getting sick again."

Lucy smiled while putting her toothbrush back in the holder, then looked at him over her shoulder. A soft sigh slipped past her lips when he kissed her. "You got it, baby," she replied wistfully. She slowly made her way to the bathroom door, then glanced back at him with a devilish grin. "Unless…"

"Unless...?" Macbeth asked warily. He knew that look in her eyes. It was the same one she had given him the day before while they were at the beach. Whatever it was that the little minx was planning, he was surely going to not only agree… But he was going to love every second of it.

Lucy nibbled her lip nervously for a moment, then internally smacked herself upside the head.  _'Lucy, you just spit his jizz out in the sink. I think you can chill the fuck out already,'_  she scolded herself. "Unless you wanna add to those pin-ups in your spank bank. Pretty sure I've got a black set of lingerie over here."

Macbeth's jaw dropped open and his eyes glazed over, then he slowly nodded. His hand was grabbed by hers, and he was hardly aware of the fact that she was laughing and smiling while leading him to the bedroom. As the door to his room closed behind him, he thought,  _'Oh holy fuck! She's still topless… I've died and gone to fucking heaven…'_


	4. Copy

Lucy, Macbeth, and Erik are 25. Bickslow is 27  
 _(Three Years After College)_

* * *

Erik glared at the picture in his hand, then up at the group of guys he was sitting with at Starbucks. Macbeth was going to die. A slow and painful death. Only after he had been thoroughly humiliated. This shit couldn't go unpunished, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let the bastard that was his best friend beat him. No, it was eye for an eye.  _'Goddamnit, this is no time for puns!'_  How Macbeth had gotten this picture was beyond him, but the fucker was going to pay for making a copy of it and emailing it to everyone they knew.

_An eighteen-year-old Erik was lying on a bed, his maroon hair unruly and flattened in odd directions. His eyes were closed, the heavy comforter was kicked almost completely off of the bed, and he was curled up into a ball with a large purple snake plushie tucked to his chest._

"Macbeth, you're so fucking dead," Erik hissed.

"Aww, you look so adorable!" Bickslow laughed, draping an arm over his fiance's shoulders.

"Shut up, fuck nugget." Erik tried to shrug the larger man off, then sighed in resignation when a light kiss was pressed to the scar where his eye had once been. Six years together, and he still couldn't find it in himself to stay mad at the blue-and-black haired son of a bitch.

"How can I?" Bickslow chuckled. "This is precious."

"It was a gift."

"Gihi. So you decided to sleep with it?" Gajeel asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I was six!" Erik shouted, glaring at the other patrons when they shot him scathing looks.

"You sure don't look six," Natsu said with a furrowed brow.

Erik rolled his eye. "When I got it, dumbass!"

Bickslow grinned deviously. "Did you sleep with it then?"

"... Yes."

"Did you...  _name_  it?" Gajeel teased, leaning forward again with a wicked grin.

"..."

Macbeth smirked. "Yeah, her name is Cubellios."

"Shut up, Midnight," Erik grumbled. "Your wife is the one that helped me name her."

"I'm the one that gave her to you!" Lucy said happily while she sat down in Macbeth's lap. "Of course I helped you name her!"

"Why do you still sleep with it anyway?" Gajeel asked curiously.

"Because she's comfy!"

"Pfft…" Natsu chortled, "Cobra sleeps with a snake..."

"Watch it, Salamander. I'll start pulling out shit on  _you_ ," Erik growled. "I still have that picture of you wearing Bright Eyes' fucking cheerleading outfit. Pom poms and motherfucking all..."

Lucy's eyes went wide at that. " _That's_  why I had to get a new one?! Goddamnit, Natsu!"

"Wow guys..." Macbeth chuckled, shaking his head.

* * *

_Macbeth stood in front of a refrigerator, his arms crossed over his chest and an unamused expression on his face. His makeup was gone, leaving only the sight of his pale skin that was just a few shades darker than the foundation he wore, light pink lips and oddly tired looking eyes. His black and white hair was bound in a high ponytail, pulling it up and away from the collar of the black suit he was wearing._

"Dude, you look like a chick without makeup on," Gajeel laughed while looking at the picture on his phone.

"Fuck you, Gajeel," Macbeth grumbled.

"Kinda like if Mard had white and black hair," Erik added.

Macbeth looked next to him, at his second cousin, Mard Geer. "No, I don't..."

Mard tilted his head to the side slightly while looking at the picture on his own phone. "We're related, so it shouldn't be a big deal to look like me."

"You're not helping..." Macbeth sighed, dropping his head to the table.

"Why weren't you wearing it anyway?" Gajeel asked.

Macbeth frowned. He remembered that day well. "Lucy hid my makeup bag."

"You have a makeup bag?" Mard asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yes."

"Is it pink and fucking BeDazzled?" Gajeel laughed raucously, sending a very agitated middle finger toward a little old lady that had scoffed at his crude behavior. Fucking Starbucks patrons were a bunch of assholes with no sense of humor, obviously.

"... No," Macbeth replied flatly.

"No, Bright Eyes' is pink," Erik supplied. "His is black. It  _is_  BeDazzled though."

Lucy giggled and rubbed slow circles on her husband's back while sipping her Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino - fully accepting of her annual 'basic white bitch'-ness. Pumpkin Spice was fucking delicious. "Erik,  _you're_  the one that BeDazzled both of them."

"As a joke," Erik said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Macbeth slowly lifted his head from the table, sighing when a fresh cup of coffee was slid in front of him from Lucy. "You bought a BeDazzler, made them, then gave them to us for Christmas."

"So?"

"You  _still_  BeDazzle things," Macbeth continued. "You BeDazzled a little wooden totem for Bickslow just last week."

"And?" Erik asked, raising his eyebrow in a silent challenge. Was it his fault that goddamn BeDazzler was so fucking addicting? "Technically, I didn't use the BeDazzler for that. I had to glue the rhinestones and shit on by hand." Okay, so maybe he secretly loved shiny shit. Call him part dragon, but seeing things twinkle made his insides churn happily.

"And-"

"Don't try to change the subject!" Gajeel shouted over Macbeth. "What the fuck?"

"We had to go to some party for her job," Macbeth sighed. "She said no makeup."

Mard shook his head. "That's... Wow."

"Next time we have to do that," Lucy said slowly, "You can put makeup on. Just... Think natural, beauty makeup." Never again did she want people to have to see her exhausted husband without makeup. She thought he was still handsome, but apparently he had been giving people the creeps.

Macbeth's eyes narrowed as he looked at the email he'd been copied to. "Erik, where did you get this picture?"

Erik chuckled. "From Bright Eyes."

Lucy gave her husband a cheeky grin when he tried to glare at her. "I'm Switzerland... A devil's advocate Switzerland."

Macbeth sighed, then turned to glare at Erik. "You're an asshole."

"Yep," Erik laughed.

* * *

_Erik stood half naked in his bedroom, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding a hairbrush to his lips. His hip was cocked out to one side, with the towel that was covering him hanging just below his narrow hips. In the bottom corner of the picture was a deviously grinning blonde, holding the camera out and away from herself with a Selfie stick to capture the window she was spying through as well as a part of the outside of Erik's apartment building._

"Lucy, what the hell is this?" Macbeth asked warily, holding Lucy's phone in his hand like it was about to explode.

"A picture of Erik," she said while looking through another photo album from when they were in high school.

"Right, but... Why is... How..." He shuddered when she looked up at him with what had to be the creepiest smile he had ever seen on her face in the twenty some-odd years they had known each other.

"You... Don't want me to answer that," Lucy said, a small giggle escaping her. "Although, I'd suggest closing the drapes when you're about to jerk it..."

He paled even further and whispered in horror, "We live on the fifth floor, Lucy..."

"I know... There's a perfectly placed light post for the street that gives me a great view of our room... Although, that nest didn't fare too well last time..."

" _You_  were the one that knocked the nest down?! It's been there for a decade!"

Lucy shrugged helplessly. Macbeth emailed the picture to himself, then to everyone in his and Erik's mutual contact list.

* * *

_Macbeth was sprawled out on the bed in his dorm room from their first year of college. The layers of blankets that usually cocooned him were ripped from the bed and tossed on the floor. His hair was covering his makeup-less face. Aside from his black nail polish and signature hair color, there was no way to tell it was him. The long pants and matching shirt with Spongebob Squarepants stood out like a sore thumb._

"Really dude?" Gajeel laughed, pulling off his black latex gloves and covering the newest tattoo he'd given Natsu - a ball of fire surrounding a pin-up girl - with Saran wrap. "Spongebob?"

"Shut up..." Macbeth sighed.

Bickslow chuckled, his arms wrapping around Erik's waist from behind as they leaned against one wall off to the side. "Were you wearing Squidword tightie whities, too?"

"No."

"Where's Patrick?" Natsu asked with a wide grin, looking over at Macbeth as he pulled out the money for his tattoo.

"Shut up."

A wide and malicious grin turned up the corners of Erik's mouth, and he took a deep breath before belting out, "Ooohhhh! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?!"

"Macbeth's Sleep Pants!" Bickslow shouted with a tongue-lolling grin.

"Absorbent and yellow and porous is he!" Erik continued.

Gajeel smirked while disassembling his tattoo gun for cleaning. "Macbeth's Sleep Pants!"

Erik chuckled darkly. "If nautical nonsense be something you wish..."

"Macbeth's Sleep Pants!" Natsu chimed in.

Erik threw his arms in the air. "Then drop on the deck and flop like a fish!"

All four men in the small room grinned at Macbeth and shouted, "Macbeth's Sleep Pants!"

"It was a gift from Lucy!" Macbeth shot back defensively.

"Uh-huh..." Gajeel chuckled. "Sure..."

Macbeth leveled Erik with a hard glare, then his head tilted to one side. "Why do you even know that?"

Erik frowned. "You know... I have no idea..."

"You're so fucking dead, Cobra," Macbeth hissed.

* * *

_Erik was sitting on a couch, his knees pulled to his chest and a bandage covering his right eye while it healed from the recent surgery that had removed it completely. The room was bathed in darkness aside from the light coming from the television. His single eye was wide in horror and he was sucking on his thumb._

"What the hell were you doing?" Lucy giggled, ducking a wadded up piece of paper that was thrown at her.

"We were watching a movie," Bickslow chuckled. "I think it was Insidious."

"And you were sucking your thumb because of a scary movie?" Gajeel asked, catching the paper that was chucked at him and tossing it to Lucy.

"No, there was butter on my fingers from the popcorn we were eating," Erik said angrily. "I was just getting the butter off of my thumb."

Macbeth smirked. "You hate popcorn..."

"I figured I'd give it another shot!" Erik shouted, growling when a basket of wadded up paper, that had all once been Lucy's failed attempts at working on the next installment of her novel, was thrown in his general direction.

"There's no popcorn in your lap," Natsu pointed out, holding open the large garbage bag that he had been tasked with holding while they helped Lucy clean out her office.

"I put the bowl on the coffee table!" Erik shouted.

"You didn't  _have_  a coffee table back then," Macbeth said, grinning when Erik glared balefully at him.

"I wasn't at home!"

Lucy smiled slyly at Bickslow, knowing he was the one that gave Macbeth the picture for this little copy war the two had started. "Is that your Cubellios plushie under your arm?"

Erik blinked in surprise, then looked at his phone again. He zoomed in and saw that he had, in fact, been cuddling with Cubellios. He never took that plush snake anywhere, so he'd been caught. "... Fuck you, Bright Eyes."

* * *

_Macbeth was sitting on a light beige duvet with his back against the headboard of the bed. In one hand was a magazine from Kryolan, and in the other was a bright green sippy cup with a spill-proof lid. He was looking at the camera while the cup was halfway to his lips._

"Really?" Erik laughed. "A fucking sippy cup?"

Macbeth crossed his arms petulantly. "What? Lucy said if I fell asleep, and spilled beer on her Egyptian cotton duvet one more time, she was going to fucking kill me!"

Erik glanced at Lucy while she kept preparing dinner in the kitchen. Their eyes locked, and she smiled softly at him before turning away with a knife in her hand. With a shudder, he looked back at his best friend. "Valid."

* * *

_The night of their high school graduation, Erik was hanging backwards out of a bathtub, unconscious and completely naked. His hips were covered by the light blue shower curtain and rod that had been pulled down from the wall. His back was arched over the edge of the tub, his head dangling limply. His maroon hair was pulled into a dozen small picaninny ponytails, each one secured with a hot pink barrette. His closed eyes were colored with a bright, sparkly blue eyeshadow. His lips were painted a gaudy, bright red. The apples of his cheeks were covered in large hot pink circles that faded as they followed the line of his cheekbones. To top off the drag queen look, a handful of glitter had been thrown at his face and on his chest._

Gajeel laughed hysterically while looking at the new email he'd gotten. "Shit, what the hell happened to you?!"

"Don't pass out naked in the bathtub. Not around Bright Eyes and Midnight," Erik answered with a sneer. "Bunch of fucking assholes."

"Oh my god, look at your hair!" Bickslow cackled.

"Fuck his hair, look at his face!" Gajeel shouted, turning his phone to the guy.

Natsu snickered. "You look like a hooker, dude."

"I'm poisoning you two." Erik grinned when Gajeel and Natsu blanched.

"What the hell?" Natsu whined. "Bickslow got in on it, too!"

Bickslow gave them a tongue-wagging grin while Erik's fingers threaded through his hair. "I'm the favorite."

Erik smirked. "He gets a free pass. Besides, I'm not gonna go killing my fiance. He's too cute for that."

"Fucking right, I am!" Bickslow added. "Just like you with the slutty makeup."

Erik sneered. "Watch it, asshole."

"Aww, widdle Cobwa's gettin' gwumpy…" Bickslow crooned, using one finger to scratch under his lover's chin.

Erik blinked in shock and a good bit of horror. Only one person he knew did shit like that. "You sound like Bright Eyes... Please don't do that again."

Gajeel shuddered. "Yeah… I don't think the world is ready for another Bunny Girl."

"No kidding. Luigi's scary," Natsu added, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend of five months, Flare Corona.

Flare leaned over slightly to whisper to the blunette tucked under Gajeel's arm. "Who are all these people they're talking about?"

"Cosplayer's fuckin' awesome!"

Macbeth smirked while taking the last seat at the usual table at Starbucks. "Damn right. Dawn's the best."

Lucy giggled while sitting down on Macbeth's lap. "I'm the best what?"

"Hm?" Levy asked, looking at Flare. "Oh, well-"

"Gihi. What's up, Bunny Girl?"

Natsu grinned. "Luigi!"

"Heya, Cosplayer!"

"Hey, Bright Eyes."

Flare blinked slowly, watching each of the men around the table greeting the sweet blonde that had introduced her to Natsu. She would be forever indebted to Lucy for bringing Natsu into her life, and it was all because the blonde had come into her hair salon on a whim. "Oh," she drawled with a soft smile, "You guys were talking about Blondie?"

Lucy sweatdropped, giggling when Macbeth's arms wrapped around her.

* * *

_Macbeth was staring at the camera while Lucy cried on the floor in the background. He stood in the middle of Lucy's old apartment with a black leotard on, and a large pair of bright yellow and purple butterfly wings strapped to his back. His makeup was more extravagant than usual, accentuating the coloring of the wings perfectly._

Bickslow cackled while looking at the picture. "You look like a poster child for the gay pride parade!"

"That's kinda fucked up," Gajeel said.

Erik waved a dismissive hand at the pierced man next to him. "No, we went to the one they had last year. There were a shit ton of guys dressed just like that. They were their own big gay flutter of butterflies."

Bickslow nodded. "None of them looked this good though. You'd probably make a killing if you got hired to do their makeup."

Macbeth shrugged. "I'm not even ashamed of this one. I used it to get into that special effects school."

"You're still dressed like a fucking butterfly," Gajeel said. "Couldn't you have just done your face? Or had Bunny wear the costume?"

Macbeth shrugged again. "Sure, but I thought it would be funnier if I wore it."

"It wasn't funny," Lucy pouted.

"Hey, why were you crying anyway, Cosplayer?"

"I promised her I wouldn't become a butterfly," Macbeth answered, smiling and shaking his head while looking at the image of Lucy sobbing on the ground.

"That doesn't even..." Gajeel trailed off, then rolled his eyes. "Wait, it's Bunny Girl... Nevermind."

"At least you weren't covered in creepy clear gooey stuff," Lucy mumbled. She frowned when Gajeel's words finally registered. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?!" Lucy shouted.

"N-Nothing!" Gajeel quickly replied, his voice a high pitched squeak. The little old lady he'd flipped the bird a month prior laughed.

* * *

Lucy giggled as she and Macbeth stumbled through the darkened studio, her stilettos hanging loosely in her grip with the thin black straps barely holding their place on her fingers. "We shouldn't be here," she whispered, another small laugh sitting on her mostly numb lips.

"Why not?" Macbeth chuckled, grunting when his thigh bumped into a table.

"Because the studio's closed," she whispered loudly, looking around to make sure no one heard her. A small squeak fell from her lips when Macbeth quickly spun her around, her shoes finally slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor. She was hardly able to make out the devious grin on her husband's face before his mouth slanted over hers, stealing her breath in an instant. The ever-present, alcohol-induced heat that was washing over her before was brought roaring to life as she clutched tightly to his shirt.

Macbeth groaned when his hands dipped beneath the hem of her black mini-dress. It had been tempting him all night to just tear the small slip of fabric away from her dangerously sensuous body. He couldn't help himself any longer, and that was why he'd pulled her away from their group of friends while they were walking past the studio that he worked at on their way to the next bar. He needed to feel Lucy's thin legs wrapped around his hips, her sex tightening around his cock while he drove her to the edge again and again. He needed her ass and breasts to fill his hands while he squeezed and rubbed them. Her nipples puckering and roughly gliding over his chest as he pounded into her dripping sex.

Lucy knew exactly what he wanted. They had been married for three years by that point, and she could tell just how desperate Macbeth was for some action by the way he started undressing her as he continued stumbling forward. She had no idea where they were headed, but she didn't really give a shit about that. Not when her panties were forgotten along the way and her dress followed shortly after, making a little trail for an imagined pervy Hansel and Gretel to follow. Their kisses became more urgent once her bra disappeared, and she had to remind herself through the thick haze of fine whiskey that Macbeth needed to be naked as well.

Macbeth chuckled again when Lucy ripped open his shirt, causing the black buttons to fly off in every direction. Sure, it was one of his favorite dress shirts, but right then? He hated the thing, and he was glad that he'd worn a black tank top beneath it so he wouldn't have to walk out completely shirtless. Her hands dropped to his belt, and he could feel her fumbling with the leather strip and metal clasp.

Lucy gasped and moaned softly when she was pressed up against something. Her bare skin was wracked with an erotic shiver as she tasted the alcohol and cigar on Macbeth's tongue. Normally, she would have hated the taste, but then? It was sexy as hell. So dark and rich in a way that wasn't her husband at all, but still was in his own weird way. It pulled a darker taste from the depths of his being, transferring it to her and giving her only a small glimpse of just how delicious he really was. Finally, as though she had been granted the most glorious gift from a deity, the belt loosened. His pants were unbuttoned and pushed to the floor in record time.

She didn't have time for foreplay. She needed every solid inch of his thick shaft filling her, plowing into her with so much force that she wouldn't be able to walk, let alone think about walking, the next day. His hands palmed her ass as he lifted her up, and Lucy's thighs wrapped around his perfectly slim hips. There was no prepping, no fingers gently invading her core to prepare her for what heavenly gift she was about to receive. It didn't matter anyway, since she was so damn wet already that she was sure the lower portions of Magnolia were being evacuated due to flooding.

Macbeth gripped his cock and pushed into her with a grunt. Her body always felt too damn good like this. Everything from her breasts that bounced so deliciously to her mouthwatering waist and hips. Pale thighs that pulled him closer still. An ass that he could never stop grabbing, no matter where they were at. And her sex. Good god was that just a slice of heaven. His wife had a body that just wouldn't quit, and she gave him exactly what he wanted. His tongue roughly invaded her mouth when she tried to scream in pleasure, and he gave her no time to adjust before his hips snapped forward at a quick pace.

Lucy's back arched and her hand sought out the waist length black and white hair that she always ran her fingers through. One tangled in his hair, against his scalp, while the other frantically grabbed empty air around her to try and hold on for the ride. "Fuck me, Midnight," she whimpered. "Fuck me hard!" Her fingers finally found purchase on something smooth and cool; glass she realized, after the fact. It really wasn't all that important to her, as long as he gave her just what she needed.

And he did. Macbeth's arms wrapped around her back and his hands tightly gripped her slender shoulders. His mouth covered hers as he began slamming into her wildly, swallowing each and every scream she let loose. He pulled her onto him more forcefully, his shaft hardening with each deep, rough plunge into her sex. The sounds of their joining filled the air, battling just as wildly with the scent of sex as their tongues and teeth were with one another.

"Fuck!" Lucy moaned, tearing herself away from the mind-numbing kiss he was laying on her. Drunk sex was absolutely amazing, especially when Macbeth was just as far gone as she was. They were both already three sheets to the wind, and more than willing to get to a fourth, or even a fifth. It's just what happened when their group went out for a celebration of any sort - they would all get completely shitfaced, and do enough stupid shit that they would regret for several months (at least) until the next celebration. This time around was Erik's completion of his thesis for his doctorate.

The night had started off simple enough, just dinner and a couple drinks at everyone's favorite restaurant, Tartaros - owned by Mard and Mira Geer. That had led to bar hopping.

Blue Pegasus had started them off, but Erik hadn't wanted to stay at the gay bar without Bickslow there since the tall blue-and-black haired man was still working on his own thesis.

Mermaid Heel was next, but the guys felt out of place being the only men there.

They had picked up Gray at Lamia Scale with his brother Lyon, then spent an hour drinking their faces off.

Gajeel had joined the group when they stopped by his tattoo shop, and everyone had decided to give the guy a good chunk of change by asking for tattoos or piercings. He was fast as hell, which might have been because they were all drunk and asking for relatively simple tattoos, but Lucy knew her own tattoos were going to be absolutely beautiful. She trusted the big lug to make sure she didn't regret it.

That was where they had separated though. After the tattoo shop, the next stop was the biggest bar in town. Fairy Tail. No way in hell was Lucy stepping foot in Quattro Cerberus again - that place was too wild for her taste. Macbeth had told the group he and Lucy would meet up with them at Fairy Tail, then dragged her into the studio.

"Shit, Dawn," Macbeth moaned, his hands sliding down her back to her thighs. He spread her legs wider, and looked down as Lucy collapsed backwards onto the machine he'd settled her on to see where he was spearing into her sex. Just the sight of it, how her body so willingly invited him in, feeling how she clenched around him to keep him nestled deep within her, had another louder groan rumbling through him as he started moving faster. Her screams and moans increased in volume, and he gripped the copy machine tightly as he felt her walls tightening around him.

Lucy's back arched when she felt his lips surrounding one nipple, and she gasped as he roughly sucked the small pink tip into his mouth. He always left her breathless when he let loose like this. His thin, slightly muscular frame fit so perfectly between her legs. Those black-painted lips of his knew all the right ways to make her see stars. She couldn't care less that every kiss he pressed to her body left little black lip marks on her; Macbeth carried his lipstick with him for that exact reason, after all. His thick shaft pierced her quivering sex with expert precision, brushing over every sensitive spot she had. The low groans he let loose, the hot breaths puffing out over her already heated flesh, how his hands could grab her so tightly while still letting her feel just how tender he could be. Everything about being with him made her fall in love all over again.

One hand slid under her arched back just before it lowered to the glass of the machine again, and Macbeth grunted when Lucy's legs pulled him closer. His teeth scraped over the valley between her breasts, his brow furrowing in confusion when a soft green light traveled across his vision.

"Oh god…" Lucy whimpered as his pace faltered, her eyes sliding closed as she basked in the delicious tension that filled every bit of her. She was completely surrounded by him, only able to focus that small attention span she had in that moment on the pleasure that streaked through her. "M-Midnight…"

Macbeth ground his teeth together as she fluttered around him again, then lowered his head to her other breast and gave her a sharp bite to throw her over the edge. He never would have guessed when they started dating that Lucy would like it when he bit her, but the effect was instantaneous and one of the sexiest things he had ever witnessed. She screamed the nickname she had given him when they were still kids to the heavens while her fingers dove through his hair and held him tightly to her chest. It was all he needed to finally give in. Feeling her come undone at his touch, knowing that he was the only one that had ever felt her fall apart around him, it did him in every single time.

Lucy found herself coming down from her high just as Macbeth pushed into her one final time before he flew over the edge. She felt each hot, thick stream being shot into her still spasming sex, and wrapped her arms around Macbeth's shuddering shoulders while he was awash in pleasure. One intentional flex of her lower muscles had a silly grin spreading over her face when he let out a shaky moan, his hips twitching and pushing just a little deeper.

While Macbeth regained his breath, Lucy finally took a moment to look at their surroundings. She knew that they were in the studio he was working in for a new movie coming out since she came to visit him at work from time to time. If the sign on the front of the building or the fact that he had a set of keys to unlock the door along with the code for the security system wasn't enough of a clue, then the strange machines all around them were. Along with the huge wall of makeup supplies, another wall adorned with wigs and costumes for the actors. Or the minotaur head that was made of polyfoam and only pre-painted, with half of the hair having been put in place while the rest sat on a mannequin head just next to it.

Slowly, Macbeth withdrew. He never wanted to, but he really couldn't spend his whole life with his dick inside his wife. Well, not every second of the day, at least. He kissed her tenderly, then helped the limp noodle blonde down from the copy machine. When Lucy wobbled on her feet, either from her drunken state or him leaving her with jelly legs (maybe from both), Macbeth chuckled and pulled her into his chest. "I love you, Dawn," he whispered, brushing her slightly sweaty bangs from her forehead.

"I love you more, Midnight," Lucy giggled. "Your lipstick smudged again."

Macbeth smiled and rolled his eyes. "We're in a makeup studio, I think I'll be able to fix it." His hands slid down her back again and he smirked when he lightly palmed her ass. "You'd better be careful to take care of your tattoos though. Gajeel will beat your ass if you don't."

Lucy grinned and carefully pulled herself from Macbeth's grasp. "Then it'll be just as much his fault. That's where they are."

Macbeth chuckled and watched Lucy sway slightly while walking away to grab her clothes. His gaze landed on the swell of her perfect ass, then to the tattoos she had gotten that night. One on each cheek. Just seeing it made his body hum with excitement. He glanced down when he saw a small blinking green light, then down to the floor when something caught his eye.

A wide grin spread across his face when he lifted the paper from the floor, and he quickly folded it up and put it in his pocket. Without another word, he followed after Lucy as she started stumbling through the dark room in the general direction of the bathroom. She had no sense of direction while drunk, which meant he needed to help her out. Besides, his makeup was still smudged.

* * *

_An extremely drunk Erik grinned at the camera while lying on Gajeel's tattoo chair, his single indigo eye half-lidded. The pierced, raven-haired man held the tattoo gun just above Erik's crotch while his other hand finished wiping away the excess ink with a paper towel. Several inches below the line of his hips was the new tattoo that read, "Property of Bright Eyes."_

Bickslow laughed while looking at the picture on his laptop screen. "Wait, you and Cosplayer dated?"

"No..."

"Were you guys screwing then?"

"... No," Erik sighed.

"Did you at least get it removed?" Bickslow chuckled. "I've never seen it before."

"..."

Bickslow blinked in surprise. "... Wow. How the hell did I miss that tattoo? My face is in your lap all the time."

"Lucy's an asshole when she's drunk," Erik grumbled, "And I'm apparently a fucking idiot."

Bickslow frowned. "Isn't she like your sister though?"

"... Hence her being an asshole. Even worse, a convincing asshole."

Bickslow raised an eyebrow when he saw the scar on Erik's face in the picture. They had been dating since before the accident, so... "When was this taken?"

"..."

Bickslow smirked and looked at the time stamp, then cackled wildly. "Oh my god... It was last week?!"

"Fuck you..."

"Take off your pants!" Bickslow shouted excitedly. "Lemme see!"

"What?!" Cobra asked incredulously. "NO!"

"Aw, c'mon. I was working on my thesis for my doctorate." Sadly, Bickslow hadn't been able to see his fiance very often for the past couple weeks, and had ended up missing the get-together everyone had when Erik finished his own doctoral thesis on poisons. "Lemme see it!"

"This is literally the biggest fucking cock block ever," he grumbled. When Bickslow kept looking at him expectantly, he muttered, "Jesus fucking Christ, I hate you sometimes..."

"You really wanna bring him up right now?" Bickslow chuckled.

Erik's eye widened. "No. I'll be hearing all about theology for the rest of our lives because of you. I'm good."

"C'mon," Bickslow laughed softly, setting his laptop to the side. "I already saw the picture. And I haven't seen your dick in forever... Please?"

Erik sighed and stood up slowly from the couch, then pulled down his pants and boxers to the base of his soft member.  _'I'm never getting laid again...'_  When he saw the wide grin on Bickslow's face, he frowned. "There. You saw it. Happy?"

Bickslow suddenly pouted and looked up at Erik's face. "No... Where's mine?" Erik smirked, then slowly pulled his shirt off over his head. Bickslow's eyes trailed over every exposed muscle, then froze at the sight of another tattoo on his chest. Just over his heart. "Wh-What?"

Erik chuckled and looked down at the single eye tattooed on his chest, one that was identical to Bickslow's own almond-shaped, swirly-cornered, red and green eyes. "That's why we went in the first place," he whispered, looking back at his fiance's shocked face. "I love you, Bix."

A wide grin spread over Bickslow's face. "I love you too, Erik."

Erik laughed as he was pulled into Bickslow's lap, his legs straddling the larger man's hips. His head dipped slowly, and he paused to brush their noses together, a soft smile on his face. A happy sigh escaped him when Bickslow lightly traced the line of his jaw, and he moved to close the distance between them.

Erik jolted when his phone went off, only a hairsbreadth from finally feeling those wide, perfect lips against his own. He rolled his eye and pulled the phone from his pocket, glaring at the text message from Natsu.

_"LMFAO. Nice tat."_

Erik sneered and dropped his phone to the couch. "I'm killing Midnight," he hissed.

"Fine," Bickslow chuckled, "But at least let me fuck you before you get hauled off to prison for murder. No telling how many guys are gonna be trying to tap this sweet little bubble butt of yours." When the glare that struck fear into anyone that it was shot at was directed toward him, Bickslow smiled softly. It was way too goddamn cute seeing Erik try that whole "Cobra Look" on him. Especially when the guy was blushing. He finally closed the distance between them, listening to the barest sliver of a moan work its way up his lover's throat while his lips moved slowly and tenderly, showing just how much he loved the one-eyed bastard.

* * *

Bickslow's eyes shot open when he heard his phone playing 'Get Low', signifying someone calling him. The clock on the nightstand said it was only seven in the morning, and he had no intention of getting up that early. Not when he and Erik had been drinking and partying the night before with everyone. They had all gotten piss drunk, and he couldn't even remember just how they had managed to get themselves home. Still, Erik was a grumpy bastard when he was woken up too early with a hangover, so Bickslow carefully removed one arm from around his deeply tanned fiance, then grabbed the phone.

He was just about to ignore it when he saw the bright smiling face of Lucy on the screen - which, he realized right then, should have been obvious since that ringtone was saved specifically for her, what with her penchant for dragging his ass (literally) into twerk-offs. She was the one that had gotten everyone together the night before, and he had grown close to the blonde over the years, viewing her as his own little sister - and she technically would be (kind of) once he and Erik were married. She knew everyone was going to be passed out for most of the day, so it had to be important. With a sigh, Bickslow swiped the little green bar across the screen and put the phone to his ear. "Morning, Cosplayer," he said, his voice low and gravelly.  _'Damn, did I puke last night?'_  he wondered. _'Sure as hell feels like I did...'_

"Where the fuck is Cobra?!"

Bickslow winced and pulled the phone from his ear when he heard her screeching voice. "Shit, calm down already..."

"I will  _not_  calm the fuck down!" she bellowed. "Where is he?!"

Bickslow frowned and looked down at the sleeping man beside him. Lucy loved Erik to pieces, and in all the time he had been with the guy, not once had he heard her like this while talking about him. "In bed with me. What's-"

"You wake that fucking asshole up  _right now_!" Lucy shouted. "Put his ass on the phone!"

"Uh," Bickslow muttered. He rubbed his eyes to clear away some of his grogginess, then grimaced. If the beginning of this headache wasn't bad enough, then the thought of waking Erik up right then was definitely going to make his morning hell. "Can I just take a message?"

"No! You can't just... Goddamnit, Midnight! Let me go!"

Bickslow blinked when there was a masculine grunt, followed by a shrill shriek. Lucy's phone dropped, and there was a lot of shuffling back and forth before he heard Macbeth's tired, and slightly pained voice, on the line.

"Hello, Bickslow."

"Um... Hi...?"

"Have you checked your email?" Macbeth sighed.

"Uh..." Bickslow frowned, then pulled the phone from his ear. Sure enough, he had an email notification. "No, but... Why do I get the feeling I don't want to?"

"You don't," Macbeth said flatly. "But I'm sure you'll want to know what's going on... Just... Bring him over here. Now..." There was a long pause. "Please."

"Am I gonna get my ass kicked for something?" Bickslow asked warily.

"... I..." Macbeth hesitated. "No? I don't know. She's on a warpath." Another pause. "Lucy, just calm down... No, Bickslow didn't see... Okay... Yes... Uh-huh… If it'll make you feel better… I love yo- Nevermind then…" He sighed heavily. "She's making breakfast."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

"Just tell him something happened, and now she's crying..."

"Whaddya mean Cosplayer's crying?!" Bickslow shouted. "What the fuck happened?!"

Erik's eye flew open, then closed instantly to shield his only means of vision from the bright, searing light of the sun. He groaned and rolled over, attempting to tuck himself into Bickslow's warm and far-too-comfortable embrace. "What the fuck?" he rasped grumpily. "Sleepy time, Bixy…"

"Midnight, whaddya mean Cosplayer's crying?" Bickslow asked again. "What-"

"Bright Eyes is crying?" Erik asked, suddenly more than awake enough to handle the sunlight. Hell, he was ready to kill the shit out of whoever it was that had upset his baby sister. He propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze intense while he stared at the phone in Bickslow's hand. "Gimme the phone."

Bickslow sighed and said, "We'll be there soon. Have some coffee ready, alright?"

"Yep." Macbeth paused, then sighed. "He'll want to see the email before you leave, Bickslow."

"You got it. See you soon." Bickslow quickly ended the call, ignoring the glare Erik was sending down at him while he switched over to his email.

"What the fuck, Bix? Why didn't you give me the phone? What's going on?" Erik asked quickly. His eye narrowed when Bickslow continued ignoring him, simply scrolling through fuck only knows what on his phone. "You can check Facebook later, asshole."

Bickslow's brow furrowed when he saw an email from Erik that came through at three in the morning. One that was sent to everyone they knew. That could only mean that he had found another embarrassing picture of Macbeth to continue their little copy war that had been started several months prior. "Cosplayer's upset," he said softly while he opened the email. "We're going over there in a minute."

"Well, get off your fucking pho-"

"Holy shit!" Bickslow shouted, dropping his phone on his face in shock. Once the image had downloaded, he'd opened it to see what the fuss was all about. And now he understood it. "Coby, you're so fucking dead…"

"Huh?" Erik frowned when Bickslow handed him the phone, then sat up with his eye wide. He rubbed it repeatedly, hoping to get the image to change, but it didn't work. It was still the same thing. "Fuck, what did I do?" he whispered in horror as he looked at the picture.

_A black and white picture of a woman's back, from the shoulder blades down to her ass. A man's arm was wound around her small waist, the black-nailed hand gripping her back tightly. Both rounded globes of her ass were visible, along with two clear tattoos. On one cheek was a pair of tattooed black lips with the name 'Midnight' just above it in script. On the other was a distinct tattooed bite imprint, with what were very clearly pointed canines, surrounding the name 'Cobra'._

"Where the hell did you even get that?" Bickslow asked as Erik dropped back to the bed and threw a pillow over his face.

"Macbeth dropped it when they came to pick us up last night," Erik mumbled. "I thought I gave it back to him… Fuck, she's gonna kill me!"

Bickslow sighed and looked at the picture again. He'd finally found out, about four years ago, why it had taken so long for Lucy and Macbeth to do much of anything in the way of intimacy. After Erik had talked to Lucy on the phone - with her being in a tizzy over interrupting her boyfriend of a year while he was jerking it - he had told Bickslow what happened to her.

It made sense once he knew, and it also helped him understand why Erik was so protective of her. Even Gajeel. Those two had found the asshole that had hurt her, and they'd handled it. Sure, Bickslow hadn't been too enthused to find out that the man he'd been with for two years by that point had actually murdered someone, and that he and Gajeel had disposed of the body in ways he really didn't want to remember, but Erik had trusted him and loved him enough to tell him the truth.

" _I'd do anything to keep her safe, Bickslow,"_  Erik had said that day.  _"Anything at all. Lucy's the only person aside from Macbeth that gets me… They've never judged me for being the way I am, not just being gay but… The fact that I'm an asshole with more issues than a goddamn magazine stand. Lucy's always been there to make me smile, just by being who she is… He took her smile away from me - away from everyone - for a long time... I understand if you can't be with me now that you know about this shit, but I'm not sorry for killing that bastard, and I never will be. He fucking deserved to die for what he did to her."_

Bickslow got it. He really did. Sure, he'd been shocked as hell to find that out about Erik, and it had nearly broken them up at the time, but Bickslow forced himself to accept that it was under extenuating circumstances. He knew his fiance had issues, quite a few of them actually, but Erik was blunt about it all. That one thing was the only secret he had ever kept from Bickslow, and it was only because it really wasn't his secret to tell; at least, the part about Lucy wasn't, and that was what had caused everything else to take place.

With what happened to Lucy, it was no wonder she wouldn't want all of their friends having a picture of her very obviously having sex on a copy machine. It really wasn't too hard to figure out just what she and Macbeth were doing, or that it was Lucy to begin with. She was the only one that would ever get those two names tattooed on her. There was just one thing Bickslow didn't understand. "So, those are Macbeth's lips, right?" he asked, still staring at the picture. "Like, he kissed her ass, and Gajeel tattooed it on her?"

"Yeah," Erik mumbled. "She got those the same night I got mine. I don't remember why he kissed her ass, but it was something about his lipstick."

Bickslow nodded, then pulled the pillow from Erik's face. "Makes sense," he said with a smirk. "Why'd she get your name?"

Erik rolled his eye and chuckled softly. "Bright Eyes said me and Midnight always have her ass. Didn't make much sense, but it's the thought that counts, I guess."

"Again, valid," Bickslow laughed softly. He brushed the tangled hair away from Erik's face, watching as that one indigo eye looked up at him. Slowly, he turned the phone to face the maroon-haired man. "So… why did you bite her ass, exactly?"

Erik's eye widened and he looked at the phone again, zooming in on the tattoo of his childhood nickname from the blonde. "I… Oh, what the fuck!"

Bickslow laughed at the shocked expression on his lover's face.

"Goddamnit!" Erik dropped the phone to the bed and covered his face with his hands. He vaguely remembered what had happened when Lucy got her tattoos after Gajeel was done with his. "I didn't want Midnight to one-up my tattoo on her, and I wasn't putting on fucking lipstick so…"

"So you bit her," Bickslow laughed. "I love how your brain works, baby."

"Fuck you," Erik mumbled.

"No time," Bickslow sighed. "Cosplayer's pissed, cooking breakfast, and we need to get our asses over there for your last meal before your execution."

"Not fucking helping, Bix… Not at all…"

* * *

Lucy looked at the three men sitting at the table with a frown on her face. Breakfast had been eaten in silence, with only the light tinkling of forks or scraping of knives on the plates sounding out through the dining room. Each of them were guilty. Macbeth for keeping the picture and not telling her. Erik for taking the picture from him and sending it to everyone. Bickslow for… Okay, so two of them were guilty, and Bickslow was just there, stuck in the middle of it all. Unless he had been the one to drunkenly convince Erik to send the picture. That was entirely plausible, but she wasn't going to speculate on that right then.

"Bright Eyes, I'm really sorry…" Erik said softly, all of his usual cockiness gone, replaced by a truly sincere, remorseful expression. "You know I'd never do something like that to you… I'm an asshole, but not  _that_  much… I... I'm so fucking sorry."

Lucy sighed and looked at Macbeth. He'd already apologized for not telling her about the picture, and had even said that - aside from thinking it was insanely sexy - he thought it was beautiful. Something about how the shading complimented her curves perfectly, and that he looked at it while sober as a piece of art. It was flattering, but she didn't want to be flattered right then. She wanted to be pissed. Still, they had both apologized, and she was never one to hold grudges. "Fine," she said softly. "But this fucking game you two were playing is done."

"Of course," Macbeth said quickly.

"Yeah, definitely," Erik added.

"Because if you don't stop this shit  _right now_..." Lucy continued, pausing to open a photo album that she had set on the table before breakfast. "Everyone is getting a copy of  _this_  picture…"

Erik, Macbeth, and Bickslow watched as Lucy pulled a picture from the photo album, then slid it across the table. All three men leaned forward, although Bickslow did so just a little slower than the other two, and blinked when they saw what it was.

_Erik and Macbeth were lying naked in a bed with only a sheet covering their hips. Erik's arm was draped over Macbeth from behind as they spooned. Macbeth's pale chest and stomach were covered in hickeys and several large bites, and there were a few hickeys that were visible on Erik. In the bottom corner of the picture was a very drunk Lucy, holding up a disposable cup in a silent toast to her blackmail material._

"Uh…" Bickslow chuckled softly. "When was this?"

"Prom night," Lucy answered with a sly grin.

"Alright, I give…" Erik sighed, "But... You were laying between us when we woke up the next day..."

Macbeth nodded. "And you were naked..." That had to have been one of the most embarrassing days of his life, since he'd already figured out that he wanted to date Lucy. She hadn't freaked out like he thought she would have, waking up naked in a bed with both himself and Erik, but he had just chalked it up to the fact that she trusted the two of them.

Lucy giggled as she picked up the photo and put it back in its designated plastic sleeve in the album. "I was also drunk as shit, and decided that if you guys got to sleep naked, then so did I... And it was cold."

Macbeth and Erik blanched, then turned sharply to stare at one another in horror as they realized just what had happened back then. And the fact that Lucy had joined them  _after_  they'd fallen asleep together.

Bickslow laughed. Hysterically.


	5. Silence

Lucy, Macbeth, and Erik are 16. _  
(High School, Year Two)_

* * *

The nurses left the room with both police officers; one a rather thin, bespectacled man by the name of Lahar, and the other with short hair and an odd cross-hatched scar on his left cheek, named Doranbolt. And now, Lucy was alone.

Doranbolt and Lahar had taken her statement, and they seemed a little alarmed that she wasn't bawling or screaming, or emotional in general. She just answered their questions to the best of her ability, her voice flat and even. She gave them a description of the man: white shoulder-length hair, slicked back away from his face; tan skin and strange line tattoos on his face and down his arms; a strong, square jaw and no eyebrows; well over six feet tall, muscular build, wearing black slacks and a silver dress shirt. His voice was deep, but he only asked if her name was Lucy. She had never seen him before in her life.

There were scratches along her arms, legs, stomach, and face from the pavement she'd been scrambling over while she tried to get away. A black eye was forming where the attacker had punched her, with a split lip to complete the battered look she was sporting. There was a long bandage across her throat from where the knife had been pressed to it. Another was wrapped around her head to cover the stitches in her scalp from the empty whiskey bottle he'd hit her with before leaving her to die.

The nurses were asked to take pictures of her injuries, including the bruising on her thighs from where his hands had forced them open. The rape kit was already being taken down to the lab for testing, but she already knew they wouldn't find anything. He had used a condom. There was no DNA for them to find, even though they had taken samples of the grime from beneath her nails as well. She hadn't scratched him though.

Lucy didn't know what to think or what to feel. There was no way it could have actually happened though, that was something she was sure of in that moment. She had been walking home from her part-time job at the library, and had left a little later than usual because she had wanted to finish putting away the returns. It was just after dark, but she had still been able to see the last remnants of sunlight peeking over the horizon while she made her way back to the orphanage. Erik hadn't answered when she called to see if he would walk home with her. Macbeth was already at work, since he had picked up late shifts as a busboy at some fancy restaurant, so he couldn't walk her home like he usually did. Sorano, Sawyer, and Richard were all off doing their own things in the new lives they had made after being adopted, and she couldn't have called Seilah or Kyouka to come get her. She was sixteen, after all. Surely, she could walk five blocks to get from the library back to the orphanage she and the others lived at.

Just five blocks. In what should have only been a thirty minute walk, and that's if she was taking her sweet time, everything had changed.

The man had bumped into her on the sidewalk just as she'd finished crossing the street. She had gone to apologize to him, giving the same sweet smile she gave to everyone she met. He had asked if she was Lucy, and she had denied it. She didn't make a habit of telling strangers her name, especially not when she was alone at night. He had smiled down at her, and just as she went to continue on her way home, he'd grabbed her by the arm and pressed a knife to her throat, then dragged her into an alley. She had fought him off as best as she could, hitting him with her bag and kicking at his legs. It only made him press the knife to her throat even harder. He had thrown her to the ground, and she tried to get away, but he'd pinned her down in the nearby alley. Her clothes were shredded, but she still tried to get free. He'd beaten her, pried her legs open, took her, then hit her over the head with a bottle to knock her out for him to make his escape.

When she came to, there were paramedics and police all around her. She was still lying on the ground, and they were just about to put her on the stretcher to take her to the hospital. They had told her not to move, that she could have a serious injury that they might not be aware of and it could get worse if she didn't listen to them. But everything was just a blur at that moment. She hadn't been concerned with her attack, or the fact that a girl around her age had noticed her purse had been dropped on the sidewalk and came to investigate. She was grateful that the girl had called the police, instead of just leaving her there. But there was no way to make out who she was in the throng of unfamiliar faces. She did catch a small glimpse of a girl with wide, nearly vacant, orange-red eyes and red hair that hung down to her waist before she was put in the ambulance though.

She couldn't remember much of the ride in the ambulance. It was just a vague recollection that it had happened, but there wasn't anything that stood out to her. She did remember having a blanket put over her, but that was still in the alley before they'd put her on the stretcher. There was a flash of a memory of her bag being set down on the foot of the stretcher. Apparently, she'd been asking for it as soon as she woke up. Just bits and pieces of memories came to her until she was in the hospital. The constant thought that she needed to call the police and report the attack kept circling back around at the time, but she had to remind herself that it had already been handled.

Now she was stuck in a hospital bed, waiting for someone to tell her that she could go home. She didn't want to believe that it had happened, that her innocence had been stolen by someone that the police would most likely never find. Just the thought of the man that took everything from her being out there had her fear spiking. It faded into the background though. Just as quickly as it came. Maybe she just wasn't ready to deal with everything yet. Maybe it just hadn't had time to sink in. She knew it was true, that she'd been violated and left for dead. There was no way to deny that when the proof of it was covered by bandages all over her body, or the burning pain between her legs. She ached all over. Her scrapes and cuts stung as though there were millions of tiny blades dancing just beneath her skin.

How could this have happened though? She was careful. She was a good person. She got good grades in school; not quite straight A's, but she was still doing pretty well. She was nice to everyone, and did everything she could to make others smile and laugh. Didn't that count for something? She wouldn't wish what she went through on anyone, but… Why her? Why did he come after her? What was it that was so special about her, that made that man so determined to force himself on her? Was it the way she looked, how she dressed, something else?

Aside from the why of things, Lucy wondered how. How had he known her name? She couldn't remember that man ever having been in her life before. Was it possible that she had forgotten meeting him? She didn't think so, considering just how much he would stick out under normal circumstances. Those tattoos alone made him a pretty noticeable guy. But what if... What if he had been a friend of her parents? What if he knew who she was because they had met when she was too young to remember him? When she thought long and hard, he did seem vaguely familiar. Maybe he looked like someone else she knew? A relative of theirs that she had never met, perhaps.

She could ask herself all the questions in the world, but she knew that she would never find any answers. Lucy wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to know any of them. It was strange, thinking of all the things that she had done wrong that led up to her attack, and still not wanting to know the answers to her millions of questions. She was curious, analytical to a fault, and she already knew just what she should have done differently.

She should have called Erik again, or texted him to see if he would come by the library and walk her home. She should have just sucked it up, swallowed her pride, and called Seilah or Kyouka. They wouldn't have judged her for not wanting to walk back by herself at night. Lucy knew the risks of an attack on a woman walking alone through town at night were high; they made sure to add that to the curriculum in Sex Ed, since it was a real possibility that one of the girls in school would be attacked. Lucy should have screamed, because maybe someone would have heard her and helped. She should have tried to scratch him, just so that the cops would have some DNA to go after the guy, some piece of evidence that was tangible. Maybe she could have asked the librarian, an older woman with a car, for a ride. Sure, Ms. Babasaama was a little eccentric, and would have probably threatened her with 'being spun' (whatever that meant) for asking, but Lucy knew that the little old woman would have done it. If she had gone the other way, and just headed over to Macbeth's job, she could have waited for his shift to be over, then they could have gone back to the orphanage together. It was only a block away from the library, and she could have waited at a table and done some of her chemistry homework before asking Erik (as usual) to help her with it.

There was just so much that she had done wrong, but some part of her was adamant about the fact that she wasn't to blame in this. Lucy hadn't come onto the guy, she hadn't been flirting with him or dressed in a way that would have hinted at her being a slut. A turtleneck sweater and a pair of long jeans, she was completely covered. But what if just bumping into him had been enough to trigger something more violent?

All Lucy knew for certain was that she was numb right then, and that was probably for the best. There was no telling what she would do if the emotions that should have been overwhelming her finally bubbled up to the surface.

Not if she was alone like this.

Lucy hated being alone. She always had, especially after her parents were murdered when she was five. When she came to the orphanage, she'd been so lonely and scared and confused. Just like she was right then as she sat on the hospital bed, doing everything she could to ignore the bustling of hospital staff that rushed past her door, the smell of sterility in the air, the sight of those bandages wrapped around her arms and disappearing beneath the hospital gown.

Was she scared? Of course. That psycho could come busting through the door any minute just to kill her, or rape her again. Except, it wasn't overwhelming fear; she was just aware of the possibility that it could happen. She was definitely confused, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She was just stuck in limbo with a vortex leading into a black hole in her head. She considered the possibility that the answers she was looking for weren't so far off, that maybe they were just beyond her reach right then. She was stuck staring into a black abyss, floating in space only meters from the event horizon. Just one solid push, and she would break through it and disappear into nothingness. Maybe she could find the answers she needed if she just pushed a little harder, delved headfirst into that black hole within her and searched for what she wanted to know. They always say there's no coming back from something like that, but what if she could? What if Lucy was able to stretch herself, keeping one foot just outside of that deeper darkness while the rest of her reached down to wade through its inky depths?

Lucy wondered just why she wasn't feeling anything at all concerning the attack. She should be terrified, crying, screaming, or hiding. She should have been trembling and unable to form a single sentence. Right? The speakers that had visited her school, women who had been sexually assaulted and were willing to tell their stories so young girls would be aware of the dangers out there, had said that they were a total mess in the hospital. One had to be sedated just so she could calm down enough for the hospital staff to do their job, and the police had to go through a psychologist just to get her testimony.

That wasn't happening though. None of it was. Lucy was just… Empty. She didn't like feeling this way, and she decided that, since she had time, she might as well try to get something to come out. Anything, really. She forced herself to go through the attack again, to think about what had been going through her head, how terrified she had been and how much he was hurting her. She could see herself inching closer toward that barrier between herself and the blackness within. She needed the answers, and she would only find them there.

She remembered feeling dirty and ashamed, and how much worse it was when she had woken up to those paramedics surrounding her. Things were a bit clearer now that she was going through it again, but it wasn't affecting her. She could see it all from a third person perspective, watching the memory of herself being attacked, and lying in that alley, being taken to the hospital, getting those tests done. Everything up to where she was right then.

Everything up to sitting alone in a hospital bed just like she had done a decade before. Hospitals were terrifying to her, so shouldn't she have been more afraid? Why wasn't she having a panic attack like she usually did when she was in a hospital - even when it wasn't for herself - and waiting for someone to come for her? Nothing was coming, no tears or pain or screaming. It made her a little apprehensive, and the more she tried to push past whatever blockade had manifested itself in her subconscious, the more she started to worry.

What if something was wrong with her now? Had he broken her in some way aside from what he'd done to her body? Why wasn't she afraid? Why couldn't she just shed a single tear? Maybe she could smile though. No, then people would think she'd lost her mind. Smiling after being raped wasn't exactly a normal thing to do. But… No one was there with her. No one would see it. It wouldn't be a genuine smile, borne from happiness. No, it was just a test to see if maybe she was more messed up than she'd thought before.

It took more effort than she would have thought, making those muscles in her face move into the familiar position. Pain burst across her cheek and lip, and when she brought a hand up to her lips, she knew there was something wrong. Her smile wouldn't come out. There was a small quirk to her lips, but it was as if something was holding it back. Lucy opened and closed her mouth, and found that she wasn't injured to the point of not being able to move. She tenderly touched her cheeks, and the corners of her mouth, and found that she hadn't lost feeling in her face. The nerves weren't dead, so why couldn't she just make that one facial expression? Was it all mental, maybe?

There was definitely something wrong with her. She wasn't okay at all, and she knew that better than ever. But, she just couldn't deal with it right then.

Lucy was brought from the blank space her consciousness had slipped into when she heard loud voices in the hall just outside her door. Her gaze snapped over to the door when it was thrown open, and she saw Seilah and Kyouka yelling in unison at some poor, mousy nurse who looked to be on the verge of tears. It was odd in and of itself, since Lucy had never seen either of the women that ran the orphanage raise their voices, even in anger. They were always so calm, but the two women that had become Lucy's parents in a way looked as though they would tear anyone in their path to shreds. She couldn't make out much of what they were actually saying, but she did hear something about how she shouldn't have been left alone. They knew what that did to her from experience - from when she was first taken to the orphanage - that it would be even worse in a hospital just like this one.

Kyouka paused while Seilah continued berating the nurse and hospital staff, and her blue, piercing gaze softened once it met with Lucy's dulled brown eyes. It was only for a moment, but Lucy was sure she saw more than what should have been there. Understanding that went deeper than knowing about what happened. Personal experience, maybe? But how could someone as strong and resilient as Kyouka, of all people, have experienced something like this? It just wasn't possible. It was only a moment, just a second or two, but it disappeared just as quickly when Kyouka was knocked to the side. And that was when she saw him.

Macbeth. Her best friend, her surrogate big brother, everything that Lucy wanted and needed.

His eyes bored into hers as he froze in the doorway, and she sat perfectly still while he quickly looked over her. She could practically feel him counting each and every bandage. The sounds of the hospital and Seilah's voice faded with every step he took into the room. Long strides that covered the distance from the door to her hospital bed in no time at all were slowed to a crawl, right along with time itself. Those crimson eyes of his that had always intrigued her were wide and scared. His thin pencilled brow was pushed together in worry, and every muscle in his body was tensed in anger.

She wasn't afraid of him as he came closer to her. Rape victims were supposed to be scared of letting people touch them, right? Of people being anywhere close to them? She wasn't though, and she knew that it was from more than just the barricade around her emotions. She could still feel, after all, it was just… Dull. Anything about the attack was there, and she knew it was waiting to come crashing through her, but there was something else entirely when she looked at him. Macbeth was her best friend. He was her hero. He had been there for her through everything as soon as they got to know each other. He gave Lucy a home in a place that was really only meant to be an in-between.

Lucy never looked away from his face, watching and hoping with everything she had that he could make it all better. That Macbeth would be the one that could help her when she finally broke. She knew it was coming, that the wall holding her fear and anxiety and pain at bay was going to crack any minute. Maybe it was because he was there that she finally felt like she was safe enough for it to happen. Macbeth meant safety. He was the person she needed most, and every step he took made her feel just a little more like herself. A little more like the person she was only hours before. She needed a safe place, and Macbeth was always just that for her.

The soft sound of the door closing barely registered while they looked at one another. Once it did, time seemed to start back up. He shot forward and wrapped his arms around her, and Lucy bit her lips to hide the pain she was in from just that single touch. He was trembling, something she hadn't noticed before, but he pulled away in an instant when her body tensed. She didn't want him to pull away from her. She needed that safe feeling he gave her, because now that the cracks had started forming, now that she'd been able to feel his warmth, there was no stopping it from happening.

She could see the worry and questions swimming in his eyes, and felt another crack in that wall she'd made. She didn't want his warmth to disappear. She needed him with her. She would always need Macbeth. He was the one person in her life that could help her heal the wounds that man had left. She already knew Macbeth would be there for her, but she needed his arms around her again. Lucy needed him to hold her like he did when she had a nightmare; or when everything was just piling up, and she couldn't take it all anymore; and even when she started thinking about her parents, and ended up having a panic attack because of the memories that were dredged up of buckets of blood on the walls of their dining room.

Those silent questions danced around the room, and the fact that he wasn't saying anything at all somehow made it easier for her to let the wall crumble. Tears welled in her eyes when he tenderly cupped her undamaged cheek, and she let out a shuddering breath, too afraid to break the silence between them. She could tell just how much he wanted to know, what he refused to ask her. They were two sides of the same coin, as the joke from their childhood went. Was she in pain? Yes. Definitely. Lucy nodded minutely.

He wanted to know if she knew the man that had attacked her, and Lucy shook her head slowly.

He needed to know if she was okay. Lucy didn't think she would ever be okay, but she hoped he could see just how much she needed his help. She wanted to be okay. Her lips trembled as she shook her head again.

His eyes saddened considerably, and she could see just how hard it was for him to hold back from wrapping his arms around her again. She hadn't wanted him to let her go in the first place. It was why she had refused to make a sound to let him know that she was in pain. Macbeth's arms were the safest place on Earth, and they always had been for Lucy. He took away her nightmares, he made it okay to cry, he helped her remember how to breathe. Those pale, slender appendages took away the black hole every time it showed up. They pulled her back from that precipice, reminding her that it really was a point of no return. She knew he wanted to hold her, and that Macbeth could see just how badly she needed it. But he wouldn't push her. That just wasn't who he was.

She looked at him for another moment, watching as he blinked rapidly to try and stave off the tears that had pooled on his lashes. He felt her pain, in a way at least. When Lucy was hurting, so was he. Her mouth thinned into a line as she forced her body to move, slowly scooting away from him in the bed and making as much room as she could for him to lie down with her. There was a small spark of hope that glimmered in his teary eyes, and an even smaller bit of apprehension. He probably thought she might be pulling away from him. She would never do that though. Instead, Lucy carefully turned down the blanket, then folded her hands in her lap while she waited.

Between one breath and the next, Macbeth had kicked off his shoes and was crawling into the bed with her. He didn't even bother with pulling the blanket back up, and instead just wound his arms around her when she lunged at him. Lucy's head was tucked under his chin, and she was finally able to feel just how badly he was shaking. It only made her hold him tighter though. There, with her best friend by her side, she was safe. That wall crumbled, falling between herself and the black hole, pushing her further and further away from it and back into the light. Each tear that careened down her cheeks was just another piece of the debris that kept her from that abyss.

The sight of a box of tissues being settled in his lap had Lucy's tears coming more forcefully. She cried silently, not willing to let a single sound out for fear of something horrible happening. There was nothing she could say to him, even if she had the words. Her throat was clogged with so many rivalling emotions that she felt in that moment, nothing would have come out anyway. Everything hit her all at once. Hopelessness, joy, desperation, contentment, confusion, pain, safety, anger, affection, sadness, and buckets of shame. And her fear. From the attack to thinking she was going to die. From the tests they had to perform on her that left her feeling violated all over again to the pictures that were taken for evidence. From the thought of never being safe or whole to being left alone in the room.

Lucy seized up and clutched at his shirt with every ounce of strength she possessed as her breathing became harder to control. She had to remember that she wasn't alone, and that Macbeth wouldn't hurt her. She had always been safe and happy with him. His hand tipped her chin up, and she saw that his makeup had started running while he held her. A feathery swipe of his thumb over her cheek was followed by him taking a deep breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth. She tried so hard to focus on what he was doing, how slow his breathing was and that he wanted her to copy him, but she couldn't. She was terrified, and seeing just how much it was affecting her best friend was only making it worse.

Macbeth wasn't supposed to cry. She wasn't supposed to be the reason for his tears. His father, the one she'd only heard about that had tried to kill him when he was just a small child, was the only reason Macbeth ever cried; the reason he could never sleep at night unless Lucy was with him.

His forehead rested against hers, his eyes never wavering, and Lucy felt his finger press lightly to her nose. She inhaled sharply, as she had been doing up until that point, then let out a slower breath when he touched her lips. Again and again, he helped her remember how to breathe, and the small black dots that she hadn't realized were beginning to fill her vision started to dissipate after several long minutes.

Her eyes closed when she felt his fingers threading lightly through her hair, being extremely careful of the bandages on her head, and she continued forcing slow breaths into her lungs. Before she could even try to sniffle and get rid of the mucus that was building up in her nostrils, he pulled a tissue from the box and wiped her nose for her, then used another to try and clear away some of the salty liquid that was staining her cheeks.

She felt his warmth enveloping her as he helped her lie down, and Lucy curled herself around him, refusing to allow a single inch of space between them. She had no clue how long it took for her tears to finally stop, or if they really had stopped by the time she felt exhaustion beginning to overwhelm her. His fingers danced along her scalp in soothing circles, and she allowed herself to be pulled under by it. Her eyelids drooped, her vice-like grip on his shirt lessening ever so slightly. Macbeth was everything she needed, her safe haven. For her, he was the one thing she had lost over a decade before. He was family. He was home. She was free to cry her eyes out until she finally fell asleep, because she knew that he would protect her. So that was exactly what she did.

* * *

Macbeth laid in bed with Lucy for the next hour, not caring in the slightest that his boss had been yelling at him for being on his phone during his shift, or that he most likely didn't have a job since he'd clocked out and left without a word once he got the news. Once Seilah and Kyouka found out that Lucy was in the hospital, since they were her emergency contacts, they had called him. Just hearing that Lucy was in the hospital was enough for him to start rushing out of the restaurant, but he knew it was even worse by just how scared Seilah had sounded. Lucy had been attacked while walking home from the library. It had made his blood run cold as his feet had pounded against the pavement toward the hospital.

Just the sight of the most important person in his world sitting in that hospital bed had nearly shattered his heart, and that dullness in her eyes had his head swimming. It took everything he had to slow himself down to a walk once he saw her. Granted, the walking that he'd done had still only taken a few seconds. He'd been able to see just how frightened she was, how she needed him to be there for her because she just couldn't handle what had happened on her own. The mild panic attack she'd had once he was sitting next to her in the bed was proof enough of it.

He had already spoken to Kyouka about what happened to Lucy, but the hospital hadn't been willing to give more information than Lucy being brought in after someone found her and called the police, and that her assailant had raped her. Lucy couldn't handle being alone most times before that day, but he knew it was only going to get worse. It didn't matter to him if she needed to have him with her every second of the day, because he would do it in a heartbeat. When he'd told Kyouka as much, she had said that they would overlook the rule of girls not being allowed to sleep in the same rooms with the boys for as long as Lucy needed. Everyone knew that Lucy snuck into his room nearly every night anyway, so it wasn't much of a change; with one exception, she didn't have to sneak away first thing in the morning to avoid getting in trouble. Just one look at the blonde lying in his arms had been enough for the woman to give in, apparently.

The hospital staff had tried kicking him out after Lucy was asleep, saying that only her family could be there with her after visiting hours were over. That had been an interesting conversation to watch. Kyouka had quietly ripped into the doctor while she was in the room with two hulking security guards that had been called to try and get Macbeth out of Lucy's bed. They had said that she could wake up and have a panic attack when she found a boy in bed with her, and that he never should have been allowed in the room in the first place. Luckily, Kyouka had pointed out the fact that Lucy was asleep in Macbeth's arms, how she was holding him just as tightly as he was holding her, and that legally she didn't have a family. Macbeth was the closest person Lucy had to family, with Erik - whose whereabouts were unknown at the time - coming in a close second. Needless to say, the doctor had said that there was no point in arguing over it, since Lucy was going to be released as soon as she woke up. Apparently, they had been ready to release her once Seilah and Kyouka showed up, but no one was willing to wake her up and tell her to leave; especially not with the way Macbeth was glaring at the hospital staff when they came anywhere near her.

He just didn't understand how this could have happened to her, of all people. Lucy was perfect, sweet, kind, and caring. She was everything that was good in the world. He didn't want to believe that something so horrible could have happened to the beautiful blonde, but he knew it was the truth. He didn't know all the details of her attack, where it had happened or what the guy looked like, but he hoped that she would be willing to talk to him about it. No, he knew she would. When she was ready.

The door to Lucy's room was quietly opened, and Macbeth looked over his shoulder to see Erik slowly walking into the room with Gajeel right behind him. He was definitely surprised to see Gajeel there, but he already knew that Erik wouldn't bring anyone to the hospital unless he trusted them. The only reason Erik knew what was going on in the first place was because he'd tried calling Lucy, after having missed a call from her earlier that night, and she didn't answer. So he'd called Macbeth. Needless to say, Erik was furious when he found out. As soon as Macbeth had said she was in the hospital after being raped, what could only be described as a roar erupted from the other end of the line before the phone disconnected.

He watched as the pair made their way further into the room, then stood at the foot of the bed. Gajeel set a pile of clothes down on a table, ones that he recognized to be Lucy's, then looked down at Lucy. It was strange to see tears gathering in Gajeel's eyes as he looked at her. He'd been quite the bully a few years before, and had even beaten Lucy up before he was transferred to their school. And to the orphanage they lived at. His first day there, Lucy forgave him for what happened - much to everyone's surprise - and Erik beat the hell out of him for hurting her in the first place.

As it turns out, Gajeel had been going through a pretty rough patch, because his father had abandoned him, leaving Gajeel completely alone to fend for himself. It took three years for anyone to realize that Gajeel was living alone, and that he was making money to live off of by using his father's piercing equipment. Once the police found out, they took him and dropped his ass off with Seilah and Kyouka, and the rest of their little fucked up group of kids. It seemed like those two women only got the worst of the worst juvenile rejects. The kids that had some fucked up past, were a little on the mental side, neurotic, depressed, bipolar, schizophrenic… Macbeth's own father had tried to kill him. Lucy watched her parents get murdered. Erik was brought in after the police broke up some underground slave trading ring. Sorano, Richard, and Sawyer were the only ones that had been relatively normal, and they'd gotten adopted.

Macbeth's eyes shifted to look at Erik, and widened when he saw tears streaming down that tanned face. No one had ever seen Erik cry. Over anything. It just wasn't what he did. When he was upset about something, he tended to beat it into a pulp. Or… Or he would go talk to Lucy. She was the light for their little fucked up family. She had this ability to make anyone smile with just a look, and if that didn't work, then she would make sure they were smiling by the time she was done with them. Erik was no exception.

Erik slowly walked around the side of the bed, then hesitantly lifted his hand to brush a few stray strands of Lucy's golden hair from her face and behind her ear. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair for a moment, his saddened indigo eyes slowly hardening and growing darker by the second. Macbeth watched and waited as Erik looked over her body at the bandages he could see. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Erik's eyes lifted from the sleeping blonde to Macbeth's face. They were cold and unforgiving in a way that he'd never seen before, but he already knew what it meant. A single nod was all Erik gave him before pressing a tender kiss to Lucy's hair and leaving the room with Gajeel.

Macbeth sighed softly and nestled his nose in Lucy's hair. His eyes slid closed, even though he knew he wouldn't be sleeping that night, and he tenderly kissed her forehead. His makeup was long gone by that point, with most of it having been cried off while he held Lucy. He couldn't help but think of the silent agreement with Erik. The maroon-haired teen was going to find whoever did this to Lucy, and he was going to make the bastard pay with his life. No one would get away with hurting her like this.

Lucy and Erik were really the only family Macbeth had. While he didn't want to believe that Erik was capable of killing someone, there were just some things that he'd been able to come to terms with because of his past - one of those things being that sick bastards needed to be taught a lesson. It was one of the few times that Macbeth really thought of Erik as Cobra. He went by that nickname with everyone they met after Lucy gifted him with it, and only Lucy, himself, Seilah, and Kyouka had the honor of using his birth name. But now? The look he'd seen in Erik's darkened eyes made him think that Cobra wasn't enough. Something darker and much more sinister lurked in him, like a dragon that had an adventurer trying to steal his hoard.

Macbeth would have loved to join Cobra and Gajeel - because he knew that the big, pierced teen was going to be helping in the search and disposal - but Lucy needed him more. He knew that those two would stop at nothing to kill the fucker that dared to hurt their sister. No one hurt their family and got away with it. Especially not his Lucy. She was the Dawn to his Midnight, and he refused to let her light leave because of this.

So, he sat in silence. Holding the girl he had loved for years as closely as possible. She would need him now more than ever. She would need support, a shoulder to cry on, a safe haven from her fears. He would be that for her, just like he had been since they were kids. And maybe one day, when she was ready to let someone in, he would finally find the courage to tell her how he felt. Until then, he would be her brother, her best friend. He would protect her with no ulterior motive, just the conviction of someone who had fallen in love, of a best friend looking out for her, of a brother through the bond they had built over the years.

He had so much he wanted to say to her, and so much that he knew she wished she could vocalize. It was too soon for that though, for both of them. When she was ready, Macbeth would listen. Until then, he would sit with her in silence.


	6. Makeup

Lucy, Macbeth, and Erik are 41. Bickslow is 43. _  
(Nineteen Years After College)_

* * *

Lucy closed the door that led from the garage into the kitchen, setting her suitcase down on the tile floor gently. She stopped at the refrigerator and got herself a glass of water, then continued on to the dining room to find Macbeth and their fifteen year old daughter, Persephone, sitting at the table. Which was covered from one end to the other in palettes of makeup, sponges, foundations and concealers, powders of varying shades, lipsticks, liner pencils. Everything that Macbeth had in the way of makeup at the house. Luckily, he didn't make a habit of keeping the things he needed for his studio there too; otherwise, they would need a warehouse to hold it all. This was just the 'regular makeup' and not the 'effects makeup', but it was still way more than any normal person should have. "Hey guys, I'm home," she said with a soft smile while leaning against the wall.

Macbeth smiled at his wife of nearly twenty years, handing their daughter a cotton ball that was wet with makeup removing solution. Lucy looked a little tired, but she always did when she came home from a book signing. "Welcome back, beautiful," he said softly. "How was it?"

Lucy pushed off from the wall and made her way over to the table, then leaned down and briefly pressed her lips to his with a gentle sigh of contentment. "The same as always," she whispered, grinning when she brushed her nose over his before he pulled her into his lap. "I love that people love my books, but sometimes I wish I hadn't been successful."

"Any creeps this time, Mom?" Persephone asked.

"Not that I'm aware of. Tempester's great at weeding them out."

"That guy's so  _gloomy_  though," Macbeth said with a smirk. "Just looking at him depresses me."

Lucy giggled and rolled her eyes. "Y'know, he says the same thing about you, Midnight." She turned her attention to the teen sitting next to them and cocked her head to the side while looking her over. She was the spitting image of Lucy where her body was concerned - well, what Lucy had looked like back when she was fifteen - but the rest of her was Macbeth. White hair that fell down to her hips, and matching white eyebrows. His pale skin with only the smallest hint of Lucy's less pale complexion. Her nose was slender and straight, her lips the same shape and fullness as her father's. Persephone really was a perfect combination of Lucy and Macbeth, and looked just like she was their own daughter. The only way to tell that she had been adopted was the nearly neon green eyes she had. She even had his long fingers and thin wrists, and his same taste in style. Sort of. Macbeth had never really gone for the whole lolita look, but he also wasn't a cross-dresser.

It had been pretty devastating when they found out why they were never successful when trying to get pregnant. A few cysts in her ovaries that had gone unnoticed for years had left Lucy barren. It wasn't even a question of whether or not they would adopt. Lucy and Macbeth had wanted so badly to have a family when they were younger, and they wanted to give that gift to someone else. The way it had never been done for them. Seilah and Kyouka had become a godsend once again for them when they found out about Persephone. "What's with the pop-up studio on the table, Percy?"

Macbeth watched as Persephone flushed and scrubbed her face harder while looking in the mirror in front of her. "Oh, this?" he chuckled. "I'm just giving our daughter a lesson on how to  _not_  look like a whore."

Lucy and Persephone turned to scowl at him. "It wasn't  _that_  bad, Dad!"

Midnight raised his brow at that in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, "Because all you were missing is some glitter and a bump of cocaine."

Lucy's eyes bugged right out of her head. Sure, Persephone had grown up with that kind of language around her, especially since Gajeel could never control his language, and Erik couldn't keep either his language or his graphic metaphors to an appropriate PG-13 rating. But her husband didn't normally talk that way around their daughter. "Macbeth! Seriously?!"

He gave Lucy a level stare. "Blue eyeshadow, Lucy," he said slowly, shivering as he remembered looking up to see his teenage daughter looking like a fucking raving lunatic. "Blue. She was fucking  _orange_... With my eyeliner all over the place... And red lipstick... And so much goddamn blush, I thought I was staring at a clown... It was terrifying."

"It couldn't have been  _that_  bad," Lucy said while shaking her head.

"Oh, it was..." Macbeth pulled out his phone, and showed her the picture he took when he saw their daughter trying to leave the house. "I don't even have the words for this..."

_The pale skin of her face was covered in a thick layer of foundation and powder, making her an unnatural shade of orange that contrasted heavily with her white hair and eyebrows. Her neck and shoulders were still pale. Her lips were lined in crimson, set slightly around them to make them seem bigger, and then painted a vibrant cherry red. Just above her upper lip was a small circle of black eyeliner set toward the right to resemble Marilyn Monroe's iconic beauty mark. Her cheeks were colored with bright pink that cascaded across the whole side of her face. Thick lines of heavy onyx eyeliner were drawn across her lower lids, with thinner lines on the top. Bright blue sparkling eyeshadow faded into stark white as it travelled up to her eyebrows, which had been colored in with black and made much thicker than they naturally grew._

Lucy blanched and looked at Persephone with with eyes. "What the fuck? Where were you going? A drag show at a strip club?"

"Mom, not you too!" she groaned, dropping her head to the table with a loud thud.

"Honey..." Lucy tried and miserably failed to stifle a giggle. "Lemme call your Uncle Erik. He'll drop you off when your shift starts."

"Sure," Macbeth nodded. "We can pull out your mom's old clothes. Strippers still wear tube tops and mini skirts, right?"

"Hey!" Lucy shouted indignantly. "I wasn't a stripper!"

"I know," Macbeth said with a smile. "A pin-up model is more like it." When Lucy blushed and cuddled closer - clearly thinking back to all the times she had posed for him to take pictures of her - and Persephone gagged, he couldn't help but chuckle. Now that he thought about it, he was due for another set of sexy pictures of his wife. It had been about a month since she let him take any pictures, and he really wanted some of her in the skimpy red lingerie she'd bought just before leaving for her trip. "Besides, you always let me do your makeup, so you never looked like... Well... A tramp."

Lucy paused and pictured herself with the makeup their daughter had on, wearing the clothes that she had abandoned long ago for something more appropriate for a best-selling author. She blanched and quickly shook her head to get rid of that horrifying image. "Thank god for that," she whispered. "That's scary…"

The short, awkward silence was broken when Macbeth's phone started ringing. Lady Gaga's  _"Born This Way"_  began belting through the air, and Lucy smiled when she saw Erik's contact picture showing up. It was one from nearly ten years prior, with the maroon-haired man smiling at the camera while a little girl with deep purple hair put hot pink barrettes in his hair. What didn't show up was Bickslow laughing his ass off in the background while he got a makeover of his own from another little girl with white hair.

Lucy quickly answered and put her husband's phone to her ear. "Hey, handsome," she said happily. "Wanna take Percy down for her shift at the strip club? It Drag Night, and chicks with dicks are getting in for free."

"What the fuck, Bright Eyes?" he laughed.

Lucy pulled the phone from her ear, then quickly texted Erik the picture of her orange teen. "Check that shit out."

Erik opened the message he'd just gotten from Macbeth's phone, the nearly dropped his own while he started guffawing. "Oh my fucking god! Bix, come look at this shit!" he shouted between large bursts of laughter.

Bickslow came into the living room and looked over his husband's shoulder, a wide grin on his face when he saw their niece. "She looks like a fucking Oompa Loompa!"

Lucy giggled while Bickslow and Erik continued cracking up, then said, "She's getting a makeup lesson from Daddy now." She put the phone on speaker, then leaned into Macbeth's embrace, smiling when he kissed her cheek. Almost twenty years after getting married, and they were still as happy as ever.

Erik chuckled, switching the phone over to speakerphone since he knew Bickslow was going to sit down with him. "Well, I was actually calling to see if he'd do that shit for Niblet."

Macbeth's eyes slid closed while he laid his head on Lucy's. "Yeah, come on over and have her bring the shit she was using. We'll have a ritual sacrifice in the back after we go to the store to get what they'll need."

Bickslow sighed in relief, plopping down on the couch and pulling Erik into his arms. "Thank fucking baby Jesus... I was gonna tell Doodlebug to check YouTube..."

Lucy laughed and shook her head while her fingers threaded through Macbeth's hair. She felt as tired as he looked right then, and she would have loved nothing more than to get her usual post-signing-homecoming nap like every other time she came back from a trip - something that she blamed Macbeth for, since his horrible sleeping habits had rubbed off on her. But, Bickslow and Erik had no fucking clue what they were doing where makeup was concerned, and they had a fifteen year old daughter as well. It was her duty as the only woman in the girls' immediate family to make sure they didn't miss out on things like wearing makeup. Okay, well Lucy wasn't going to be teaching them  _herself_ , because Macbeth was definitely much better suited for the job than she was where that shit was concerned. "I'm surprised Angela even knows her real name, you guys. I don't think I've ever heard you two say it since you adopted her."

Erik grinned as Angela walked into the room. "That's because she's my little Niblet. Never fucking changing..." He still couldn't believe that the scared little girl he and Bickslow had met at the orphanage Seilah and Kyouka were still running had grown up to be such a beautiful young woman. Aside from the fact that she had two dads, it was obvious that she had been adopted. Her hair was a deep violet, several shades darker than his eye, and her skin was like Bickslow's porcelain dolls - that he still called his babies - that he had gotten when he was a kid as a gift from his mother before she passed. She had wide eyes like Lucy, but they were blue instead of brown. A little button nose. A petite frame that he knew she was self-conscious about since her best friend (and cousin) had the body other girls would kill for.

Still, no matter what Angela looked like, she was his little Niblet. The nickname had come about when they had first brought her home when she was only five. She hadn't been at the orphanage for very long, and they had found out that she was taken from some bastards that had her locked up in a cellar after buying her and Persephone on the black market. It was easy to get approved for the adoption by going to the two women that had raised him and the others, but they had been concerned that she wasn't ready yet.

Erik had been adamant though. Her past was similar to his own, and he wanted the little girl to have a chance at a life with two parents that loved her. Yeah, Seilah and Kyouka were the best he could have asked for as far as having someone raise him, but they weren't his parents. He never got adopted, and he didn't want that for her. But the reason she'd been dubbed Niblet was that she was a biter. A hard one. He and Bickslow each had a scar from her small teeth, from the first night she had been with them. It had been scary as hell for Bickslow, but Erik remembered what it was like when he was in her shoes, and eventually... She realized they wanted to be her family, a real family. She had even gotten to keep her best friend in her life permanently, since Macbeth and Lucy had been looking to adopt right around the same time they were. It was clear the two girls were inseparable, and both couples were glad that they could ensure the girls would never lose each other. "And no,  _Niblet_ ," Erik added with a wide grin. "You're gonna be called that until the day you die."

"Don't you mean until  _you_  die?" she giggled.

"No, I'm fucking immortal," Erik said, his tone serious as his eye danced with mirth. "So you'll be long gone before me. Now, go wash that shit off of your face. Your uncle's gonna show you how to do it without looking like you just got gangbanged by the goddamn football team."

Angela scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. "Ugh! You're such a fucking perv, Cobra!"

Lucy snorted and rolled her eyes when she heard Erik sighing. She could practically see him shaking his head at the teenager like he always did. "Angie's still calling you Cobra, huh?"

"Yeah..." Erik sighed again. "I miss the days when I was Daddy... Niblet, why'd you stop doing that?"

Angela shrugged and gave him a Cheshire grin, one she had learned from Bickslow. "I dunno... Because you're a weirdo?" She paused and laughed when she was given a middle finger as a response, already having learned that her father's way of expressing himself made him seem like he hated everyone, when in reality he was just a big old teddy bear inside. At least, that's how he was with family. "But I still love you."

Erik blanched and tucked himself between Bickslow and the back of the couch when their daughter went to kiss his cheek with her bright pink lips. "Hell no! You're not kissing me with that skank-mouth you've got going on!"

"Erik," Bickslow laughed, "Be nice." When he was given an exaggerated kiss on the cheek from Angela, he grinned triumphantly, proudly pointing to the pink mark on his cheek. "HA! See? I'm the favorite dad!"

Lucy smiled softly while looking down at the phone. "I'm pretty sure they forgot we're on the phone."

"Like fucking hell you are," Erik growled. He lifted his head, then turned to their daughter and pointed to his cheek. "Pucker up, Niblet."

Macbeth nodded when they heard Angela giggling, followed by a quick kissing sound.

"You're both my favorite!"

"They usually do..." Persephone sighed. She put down the cotton ball she had been using once the last remnants of her failed attempt at putting on makeup were gone, then leaned forward to the phone on the table. "Hey, Twinkie! Get your ass over here. Dad's taking us shopping for makeup!"

Angela squealed, her voice trailing off as she ran to her room to get dressed.

"Fuck, she's loud!" Erik groaned, dropping his head to Bickslow's chest.

"So are you, baby," Bickslow chuckled. "I had to shove a pillow over your face last-"

Persephone pushed her fingers in her ears, jumping from her seat and running from the table as she shouted, "I can't hear this, I can't hear this!"

"Nice one," Lucy laughed. "Bickslow, you're cooking dinner tonight. I'm really not feeling up to doing anything with a knife. That signing took my will to live right out of me."

"You got it, Cosplayer," Bickslow laughed. "I'll fire up that grill you two never use."

"Lucy bought it specifically for  _you_  to use, Bickslow," Macbeth said with a yawn. "Just so she could get you to cook when she doesn't want to."

"You could do it," Bickslow countered, watching as Erik openly blanched.

Lucy grimaced with Macbeth, feeling her insides churn at just the memory of his trying to cook. "No. His attempts at cooking belong in a lab with Cobra's experiments... They could race each other to see which one burns through a table faster..."

Erik nodded. "That's harsh, but valid."

"I won't deny it," Macbeth sighed. "Don't forget that makeup."

"Yep. See you in a bit then."

Macbeth held Lucy tightly while the call disconnected. "I missed you, Dawn."

Lucy smiled and pressed her lips to his. "I missed you too, Midnight."

He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear as she tried to stifle a yawn. "Bed for you while we're shopping, Sleeping Beauty."

Lucy giggled and rolled her eyes. "Will my Prince wake me up with a kiss?"

Macbeth grinned. "Don't I always?"


	7. Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story really begins. I figured you all wanted to know how they met...

Lucy and Macbeth are 5.  
 _(Orphanage, Year One)_

* * *

Macbeth walked out to the playground with Erik, Sorano, Richard, and Sawyer, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as he went. He had finally been able to sleep the night before, so he knew that it would be another few nights before he could do it again without having any nightmares. It didn't really matter to him though. There were plenty of things he could do while he was the only one that was awake at night. Getting to watch the sunrise was his favorite thing to do, and wandering around the orphanage definitely sat in a close second. Besides, he was usually tired the whole day after he slept, so he was glad it had happened already. The next day was Halloween, and he didn't want to miss out on all the fun because he was tired.

"Oh, the weird girl's on our bench," Sorano huffed.

"Who?" Richard asked.

"That blonde," Angel answered, pointing to a pale five-year-old girl with deep brown eyes, and honey blonde hair that hung down to her shoulders. "She got here in the summer. It's so annoying. She doesn't talk to anyone, then wakes up crying all the time. But she won't tell us what's wrong."

Macbeth frowned and looked over to where his friends' attention had been drawn to, finally waking up enough to realize they were talking about something. His eyes honed in on the little blonde girl that he had seen only a handful of times.  _'She's new…'_  He didn't know much about her, but he never saw her sitting with anyone. She was always alone.

Erik scowled at the new girl. "Probably some snob. She looks like one."

"Or she's crazy," Sawyer chuckled.

"And she's always staring at that Laxus kid. You know, Freed's friend?"

"Maybe she's gonna slice his face off," Erik laughed.

"That's gross," Richard whispered with a grimace.

"I don't care," Sorano sighed. "Let's just go play something before we have to go back in for lunch."

"We could always just go make her move," Erik said with a smirk. "Want me to tell her to eff off?"

Macbeth watched as a ball rolled to a stop in front of the girl as she sat on the bench. A girl with long, scarlet hair ran over and grabbed the ball as quickly as possible before running back to her game. She didn't even spare the blonde a glance, just ignored her.

"You should," Sorano giggled. "It'd be funny."

"Awesome."

Macbeth sighed and rolled his eyes. "Since when do you let Sorano order you around, Erik?" he asked as the tan boy started walking away. It had the desired effect: Erik stopped dead in his tracks. "Just leave her alone."

"Why?" Sorano asked. "It's not like she's gonna do anything to him. She just runs away when people talk to her."

Macbeth looked back at the blonde to see her looking longingly out over the playground. With a shake of his head, he broke away from the group and made his toward her. He was sure they were surprised, since he didn't usually leave their group - mainly Erik's side, because that's what best friends did - but he didn't care. He wanted to know who the girl was and why she was quiet. Maybe she was like him and just didn't talk much.

Erik blinked in surprise, watching Macbeth sit down on the bench he and their friends used all the time when they were in the playground area. He never left their group, unless he was going to finally sleep - even if it was in the middle of the day.  _'What's he doing?'_  he wondered.

Macbeth looked over at the blonde girl once he was seated. "Hi…" She stayed silent, simply staring at the ground in front of her. He sighed while looking out across the playground, watching the other orphans playing. Erza and Jellal were playing kickball with a large group across the way. Freed was playing chess with his best friend Laxus - who actually lived with his grandfather and just came down to the orphanage because he could - near the building. "My name's Macbeth," he said softly. "What's yours?"

She didn't say a word, and instead shrunk in on herself a little.

Macbeth had to think of something that would get her to talk. He didn't know why she wouldn't talk to him, but he wanted her to do it. He just had to find out what she liked. "Do you like candy?" He smiled when she perked up slightly, but was otherwise silent. Sorano had said that the girl ran away when people talked to her, but she wasn't. Not yet. "We're all gonna go Trick-or-Treating tomorrow. You could come with us."

She frowned and shifted her gaze to her feet. "Wh-What's that?" she whispered timidly.

"Huh?" Macbeth asked.

"'Trick-n-Treat…"

Macbeth gaped at her. "You don't know what Trick-or-Treating is?"

The blonde shook her head slowly and looked out across the playground, her eyes landing on Laxus and Freed again.

"Well, it's what kids do on Halloween," Macbeth said slowly, trying to think of a way to describe something so simple. "We all dress up in costumes and go from house to house, and they give us candy." He paused and smiled then. It was subdued, as usual, but still there for her to see if she looked at him. "Then we come back and Miss Kyouka and Miss Seilah let us eat some before lights out."

The girl stayed quiet. He could tell that it was interesting to her, but maybe he just hadn't found something that would really make it sound like fun. Then again, what was better than free candy? "You can pretend to be whatever you want, too," he continued softly. "A monster, or a princess, or a pumpkin, or an axe murderer. Anything… I'm gonna be a ghost this year."

Her eyes widened and she clutched tightly at the edge of her skirt as her panic started to rise, not that Macbeth noticed while he was looking around the playground. Instead he let her sit there and consider what he had told her. To Macbeth, it seemed like tons of fun the way he described it, especially for an orphan. He'd heard from one boy a few months prior that being an orphan in Magnolia was a lot better than most other places. The city really cared about them, so they got donations all the time. It was the only way they were really able to go out on Halloween in costumes, since Miss Seilah and Miss Kyouka couldn't really afford to buy every single kid a new costume every year. They would buy new kids a costume though; just to help them get used to being there. Not to mention all the candy! Sometimes they even got full candy bars! And the fact that he got to put makeup on himself and the other kids... How could you  _not_  like it?

He slowly turned his attention back to the timid blonde, and frowned when he noticed how she was trembling. "Miss Seilah and Miss Kyouka will take you to get a costume this time, so you don't have to pick from the ones we already have. Do… Do you wanna go with us?"

She shook her head quickly. "N-No… I…" She froze and whimpered, clamping her lips shut. She refused to look at the boy that had sat down next to her, and instead bolted from the bench and rushed past the group of kids he had been standing with before. She didn't even mumble an apology when she bumped into the tan boy with dark red hair, even though she had turned to do just that. She just couldn't get her voice to work, and it was embarrassing that she saw his eyebrow raise when he noticed the tears in her eyes.

"H-Hey, wait!" Macbeth shouted after her. He stood up, ready to rush off after her and find out just why she started crying, but a gentle hand on his shoulder made him pause. He turned and looked up at the bright blue gaze and soft smile of Miss Kyouka, then winced. "What'd I do wrong, Miss Kyouka?" he asked sadly. "I-I thought she'd wanna come with us..."

Kyouka sighed as she listened to the other children that Macbeth spent his time with talking about the timid blonde being weird while they watched her disappear into the building. She slowly looked around at the other children, seeing that her running away had drawn some of their attention, even the few children that were visiting. "Lucy is…" she began, then hesitated. The girl was many things, to be honest. There were really very few people that would understand what she had gone through, especially with just how horrific everything had been that surrounded her parents' departure from life.  _'Then again…'_  She slowly turned her attention to the little black-and-white haired boy next to her. His own introduction into the foster care system hadn't exactly started off easily, not like a couple of his friends; like Sorano, or Richard, or Sawyer. His worried little red eyes looked up at her, and she could see that he really wanted to get to know the blonde girl.

Still, Kyouka and Seilah agreed that Lucy needed time to try and adjust to life now that her parents were gone. The image of what she had looked like in the hospital was burned into her memory. The police had been called, then instantly contacted her and Seilah since they were considered the experts in cases like Lucy's - when there were extremely stressful circumstances surrounding the child's entry into the system. Or when the child had a mental disorder, since they were both licensed psychologists that had decided they wanted to make more of a difference by giving orphans a place to call home than letting them live out on the street. Lucy herself had only just gotten to the hospital when Kyouka and Seilah walked in. They had been forced to fill out paperwork before they could meet with her, as was the standard procedure, but what they'd seen. It was horrific, to say the least. It was no wonder the girl was catatonic when they met with her, especially since she had just been left alone in a hospital room.  _'I swear, those idiots at the hospital are so careless sometimes… Who would leave a girl in her state alone like that?'_ Kyouka had been present when Lucy was interviewed by the police, and had been surprised that the girl spoke at all. And that she was extremely intelligent. Then again, Lucy was a Heartfilia, and her father had been a very affluent man; of course he would ensure that his daughter was schooled properly.

She sighed softly as she returned from that memory, seeing that Macbeth was patiently waiting for her to continue. It was one of the things that she found intriguing about the boy. He was polite and kind, had wonderful manners, and he really cared about the other kids in the orphanage. Still, he wasn't as energetic as the other children, but that most likely had something to due with his insomnia. He was so quiet and patient, that she always joked with Seilah that there was a little old man's soul sitting inside the boy. "She's a special case, Macbeth," she finally said. He really was a caring person, even if he mostly kept to himself. She figured, maybe he could give Lucy an outlet of someone to talk to. But for him to be successful, he needed to understand something about the girl.

Macbeth cocked his head to the side, blinking in confusion until realization dawned on him. Lucy was special. He knew what that meant. "S-Special?" he whispered. "Like…"

Kyouka nodded. "Like you, dear." She pressed a hand to his back and guided him to sit down on the bench he and Lucy had been occupying, then took a seat next to him. "Do you remember how scary it was when you came here?" she asked.

It was Macbeth's turn to nod as he looked back at the building. "Yeah…" Of course he remembered how terrifying it had been when he was brought to the orphanage. His whole world had been turned upside down at the time, and he'd been scared of pretty much everything. It was really only the arrival of Erik a couple months later that helped him to come out of his shell. Because he wanted to help the boy he'd met who seemed so angry at the world. Kyouka said they were special, because of the way things had gone for them before they came to the orphanage.  _'That means… She's like me and Erik… So…'_

"I won't tell you what happened, because that's her choice," Kyouka sighed. "Lucy gets to tell whoever she wants to about it, okay?" When the little boy at her side nodded again, she gave him a sad smile. "I'm happy you tried to talk to her though. That was very nice of you."

Macbeth sighed and looked down at his hands. "Miss Kyouka?"

"Yes?"

"How come she doesn't know what Trick-or-Treating is?" he asked softly. That was one thing he just couldn't figure out. Maybe her life before the orphanage was more like Erik's. If that was the case, then he could probably get Erik to talk to her so she wouldn't feel so lonely.

Kyouka's eyes widened slightly. She had walked out of the building and barely caught a glimpse of Macbeth and Lucy sitting next to each other before the blonde had run off. "What?" she whispered. "How would you know that?"

"She told me," Macbeth sighed. "I asked if she wanted to come with us, and she didn't know what I was talking about… How come?"

Kyouka frowned slightly. She knew where Lucy came from, so it was surprising that the girl wouldn't know something like that. "I don't know, Macbeth," she said gently, her eyes softening. "But, it's good that she talked to you. She won't talk to anyone. Not even me or Miss Seilah." She watched him in silence for a moment, then patted his knee gently and stood up. "I have to go talk to Erik and the others," she said softly. There was just no way she would allow them to talk about Lucy the way they were when they didn't know why she was the way she was. "Don't give up though. I think Lucy really does want a friend."

Macbeth gave her a brighter smile than normal. "I'll be her friend!" he said excitedly.

Kyouka laughed and shook her head. "Then she's a lucky girl, Macbeth. Go on and play, okay?"

"Okay, Miss Kyouka." Macbeth watched as she walked over to Sorano, Richard, Sawyer, and Erik. As she started speaking, he could see each of them looking ashamed for what they'd been saying. Except for Erik. He just looked angry that he was getting his butt chewed out for talking about Lucy. Macbeth wasn't entirely sure whether or not Miss Kyouka was telling them that Lucy was special like himself and Erik, but he figured she wasn't. Not many people knew that he was special, that he had insomnia, or that Miss Seilah and Miss Kyouka didn't yell at him when he wandered around the orphanage at night because he couldn't sleep. Erik was the only one they had told, but that was because he didn't have anyone like him at the time. Most likely, Miss Kyouka would pull him off to the side and tell him the same thing she told Macbeth, and hopefully it would mean that Lucy would have one more friend that kind of understood what she was going through.

Macbeth sighed and stood to his feet, looking around the playground. His friends were still being scolded, and he didn't want to listen to Sorano complaining for the rest of the day, so he figured he could just go inside.  _'I wanna read that new book we got,'_  he thought as he made his way back toward the building.  _'It looked really cool.'_

He walked through the halls at a slightly faster pace than normal, feeling a bit more energized since he had been able to sleep the night before. Once he got to the room that they called a library - even though it was just a big day room that had a few bookshelves along one wall and some couches to read on - Macbeth found a smile on his face. There on one of the couches, with a small head of blonde hair peeking up above the arm, was Lucy. She was the only blonde girl in the orphanage, so he already knew it was her. He sat down next to her on the couch, forgetting the book he had been ready to search every shelf for. When he looked at her, his smile faded into a look of concern. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her knees were pulled tightly to her chest. He hadn't meant to make her cry, and now that he knew she was special like him… He felt really bad for it. He just hadn't a clue what had made her so upset in the first place. If he did, then he could make sure never to say anything related to it. That was what they did for each other - Macbeth knew not to talk about ropes and things around Erik, just like Erik knew not to bring up his dad.

Lucy sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She couldn't help but think about her parents' murder, and what she saw. What happened that night. She was always afraid that someone was coming after her. With her parents being gone, Lucy couldn't touch any of the money in her trust fund until she was either an adult or getting ready to go to a university, but that didn't mean there weren't people after her for it. She didn't want someone to come after her too, and do the same thing to her as what they did to her parents. She could still see everything so clearly… Her mom falling to the ground and bleeding. Her dad standing in front of her and trying to keep her safe.

She found it harder and harder to breathe the longer she thought about that night as her fear spiked. Lucy hadn't really thought about it too much while she was awake, not since she was taken away from home. Every night she'd have nightmares about it, but when she was awake… she was supposed to be safe from thinking about it. She wasn't aware of anything around her, instead just seeing and hearing what had happened the night everything was taken from her.

Macbeth's eyes went wide as he looked at her. He knew that look in her eyes. He'd seen it on Erik a few times. And the way she wasn't breathing right… That had happened to him more times than he wanted to remember.  _'Miss Seilah taught me what to do though!'_  he thought urgently.  _'She said it's called a panic attack…'_  When it happened to Macbeth the first time, Miss Seilah had been with him. She showed him what to do, and said that he had to try and breathe slowly, otherwise he could pass out. "H-Hey!" he said quickly. "Lucy!" He moved closer to the blonde on the couch, then gently touched her arm.

Lucy flinched at that small touch, curling in on herself more with an airy whimper leaving her.

Macbeth moved onto his knees, then carefully placed his small hands on her wet cheeks. He turned her head, forcing her wide, terrified brown eyes to meet with his soft crimson gaze. He had to make sure he stayed calm, because that was the only way she would see that things would be alright. If he got scared, and Lucy saw it, then it would only make her more scared. "Don't be scared, Lucy," he said with a sad smile. "You gotta breathe…"

There was a small flash of recognition in Lucy's eyes. Just the tiniest glimpse of a pale face, deep red eyes, and black and white hair before she was pulled back into that night.

"Just copy me, okay?" he asked softly.

Lucy could hear his voice, and she wanted him to help her. Lucy didn't want to be stuck in her memories anymore. She didn't want to be scared, and she  _definitely_  wanted to remember how to breathe. Her chest was burning, but she couldn't get more air in. Instead of saying anything, Lucy quickly nodded.

Macbeth knew that when he was like this, he couldn't really see anything so he lightly touched Lucy's nose as he inhaled through his own. He held his breath for a moment, his brow furrowing when her breathing started getting quicker. His finger slid down to her lips while he blew out of his mouth slowly. "Like that," he said softly. "You try…"

When Lucy felt a slender finger pressed to the tip of her nose, she inhaled sharply. She felt his finger slide down to her lips, but the air was caught in her lungs. It hurt so much. She just wanted to be able to breathe, but her vision was getting darker. His finger lightly tapped her lips, and the air rushed out of her. It left her feeling empty inside, but she was able to see his face just a little more clearly, and that he was smiling at her.

"Slow," he whispered tenderly. "Like me. Go slow." He touched her nose, watching as she inhaled quickly again, then touched her lips to get her to breathe out. When Lucy's breath left her a little slower than the first time, he gave her a proud smile. "There you go. Really slow..."

Lucy's tears never stopped as he kept helping her breathe, but she forced herself to focus on the little boy's face, on his pretty red eyes. Eventually, she felt like it was a little easier to breathe, and the burning in her chest started to disappear with each slow breath she let out.

Macbeth smiled and lightly patted Lucy's hand when her breathing was back to normal, then stood up and got the box of tissues from a small table across the room. Once he was seated next to her again, he handed the crying blonde the box and sat with her in silence.

It was several long minutes of quiet that was only broken up by Lucy's soft sniffling. She let out a shaky breath while looking down at the crumpled tissue in her hand, then timidly whispered, "Th-Thanks…"

"You're welcome," Macbeth said softly. He turned on the couch to fully face her, then pulled his knees up to his chest. He could still see her trembling, and now that she wasn't as scared, he went right back to feeling bad for upsetting her. He still didn't know why it had happened, or what he'd said to her that made her so scared, but… "I'm sorry, Lucy."

Lucy turned her head to look at Macbeth in shock.

Macbeth sighed and shook his head. "I didn't mean to make you sad. I just… I didn't know you're special like me…"

Lucy frowned. "Special?" she asked in confusion. "I'm n-not special…"

"Sure you are," Macbeth answered with another small smile. His chin rested on his knees, then his head tilted to one side as he continued. "Miss Kyouka and Miss Seilah say kids like us are special. Wanna know why?"

Lucy's frown deepened, but she was curious. She slowly turned in her spot to face Macbeth, keeping her knees pulled up to her chest. Just like him, Lucy rested her chin on her knees and tilted her head to one side. She nodded slowly, then brought a fresh tissue up to wipe away her tears.

"We're special because we're still here," Macbeth whispered.

"I don't get it…" Lucy watched as Macbeth sighed, his eyes growing more sad and distant. He wasn't looking at her, but through her when he started to speak again.

"My mom was a really pretty lady," Macbeth whispered. "Really nice too. She had this long, long hair that I got to play with all the time." He remembered her face so well, even though he hadn't gotten to spend nearly enough time with her. Her hair was black and went down to her hips, and she always let him brush it or braid it. "And she let me play with her makeup, and put it on her. Even her special makeup that my dad gave her." That was why he could remember her face. He remembered her full lips, her high cheekbones, narrow green eyes, and thin black eyebrows. He didn't even need to close his eyes to see the shape of her face, or her slender nose, or her pale skin. "I liked playing with her makeup. It was like painting, and I got to make her smile when I did it. Even if she looked like a clown, she still smiled…"

Lucy sniffled softly, then handed Macbeth a tissue when she saw tears gathering in his eyes.

Macbeth wiped his eyes with a heavy sigh. He hadn't talked about his own past to anyone but Miss Seilah, Miss Kyouka, and Erik. He never wanted people to pity him for what happened, or to think that he was messed up in the head because of it. They had never judged him for it, and he figured Lucy wouldn't either since Miss Kyouka said she was special like him. "Mom got sick though," he continued. "And then she died. Dad blamed  _me_  for it. I-I don't know why, but he said it was my fault… Then… One day, he saw me playing with her makeup and he got mad. He said boys don't play with makeup… And…"

Lucy's eyes were wide as he spoke, but he stopped right then and gently held her hands where they were wrapped around her legs.

"He tried to kill me," Macbeth said softly. "I-I got away and went next door to this nice old lady who always gave me candy when I helped her with chores. She called the cops, but he busted down the door before they got there."

Lucy unconsciously moved closer to Macbeth, squeezing his hands lightly when his tears spilled down his pale cheeks.

"When the cops got there, he had a knife and I was all bloody…" Macbeth remembered that day so well. His dad had killed the old lady when she tried to protect him, then started beating him. His clothes were sliced, and there were tons of long gashes on his arms, chest, and back. The doctors had done what they could just to keep the young boy alive, but he had at least a dozen scars on him from his dad. "And he was gonna do it, but they stopped him. He's in jail now… And I'm here…" Macbeth smiled at Lucy then. Yeah, his family had gotten torn apart and he nearly died, but he was safe now. "Get it? You're special, like me… Because we're still  _here_ … We're alive and we're okay and we're safe. And one day… We'll get adopted by someone who loves us, and then we'll have a new family."

Lucy's tears came more forcefully. "I don't want a new family," she whimpered. "I want Mama and Daddy…"

"I know," Macbeth sighed, "Me too. But, Miss Seilah and Miss Kyouka care about us here. Even when you're new and won't talk… Or if you cry and scream when you're scared… They'll take care of you… They keep us safe here."

"I just want my p-parents back… But…" she stuttered. "Th-They're d-d-dead, and… I… I miss them…"

"I miss my mom too…" Macbeth replied. "Miss Kyouka told me when I came here that the special ones, like me and you… We're lucky and we're strong." He grabbed another tissue after cleaning the tears from his face, then smiled at Lucy while he started wiping her glistening cheeks. "I don't really understand everything she said, but I do know that it's easier when you've got friends. And when you've got friends, you have someone to talk to about anything. Even what happened… If you wanna, that is..."

Lucy looked away from him quickly at that. She didn't want to talk about what happened to her parents. Instead, she chose to stare at the odd brown and red pattern on the couch cushion in her line of sight. She could feel him watching her, even though she was silent for a long time. She didn't want to think about what happened, but…  _'Mama always said that talking about what makes you sad helps you feel better…'_

She sighed and closed her eyes, then opened them quickly when she saw a flash of the night her parents died. "I-I don't know who he was," she whispered. "But Mama and Daddy were at home, and we were having dinner together. I never really saw Daddy too often, and Mama would go with him a lot on his business trips, so it was a special night… They both made sure they were home for my birthday, since last year I was all alone."

Macbeth's brow furrowed sadly. That sounded like a really lonely way to live. His own mom always made sure she was with him on his birthday. Even his dad had been home for his birthday, and every other holiday or special occasion. It was the same at the orphanage. Miss Seilah and Miss Kyouka made sure they celebrated everyone's birthday, and every holiday was treated like they were all one big family.

"Right after I blew out the candles on my cake, someone broke the window and then he came inside. He had a mask on, and he shot Mama in the head." Lucy sniffled again. She could see it all again, but it wasn't as scary this time around. Maybe because she was telling someone about it that wasn't a police officer. They didn't care about her feelings when they interviewed her, just getting the facts so they could find the man that killed her parents. She only told the police the story of what happened, then refused to talk to anyone. There hadn't been any real reason for her to talk to Miss Seilah or Miss Kyouka, since they couldn't bring her parents back, and there was no way  _they_  would find the one that did it.

"Daddy got in front of me, and tried to protect me. I was so scared, I couldn't move. I wanted to move, and run away, and hide… but I couldn't leave him there all alone. The man hurt him with a knife. I-I watched his head fall off… And then Daddy fell on top of me. And it was all red. Everywhere. But I couldn't move, since Daddy was so heavy…"

Macbeth was glad that Lucy wasn't looking at him right then. She couldn't see just how wide his eyes were while he stared at her. No wonder Miss Kyouka said Lucy was special like him.

"The man l-left and… And then a long time later someone came by the house. Mister Dreyar… H-He started looking around the room, but he didn't see me. I-I kept my eyes closed just in case he saw me… He didn't seem scared at all, just… J-Just  _happy_. He was smiling… Th-Then he grabbed Daddy and took his keys and left… He was Daddy's partner for their business…" Lucy was shocked when Macbeth lunged forward and wrapped his arms around her. It only made her cry harder. This was the first hug she'd gotten since her birthday, the first time anyone tried to hold her. She moved her legs out of the way and wrapped her arms around Macbeth's thin waist, and felt him trembling as much as she was.

After a long time, with Macbeth letting Lucy cry as much as she wanted, he whispered, "But someone found you, right?"

She nodded. "The next morning, when Miss Virgo came in. She was the maid. She found me and helped move Daddy…" Miss Virgo was always so nice to her. She didn't smile very much - or make any faces, really - but she was always there when Lucy needed her with a kind word and loving arms. That morning though, Miss Virgo made a face. She was horrified, and looked like she was going to be sick. She had cried, but she didn't hug Lucy. Not that morning. Lucy didn't really blame her though. She was covered in blood, not all of which had dried, and the police needed to be called. Then, once they got there, she was taken to the hospital and left all alone in a room until Miss Kyouka and Miss Seilah got there. "Is that why I'm special?"

Macbeth smiled down at her teary brown eyes, then held her as close as possible. "Yep," he whispered. "You're special, Lucy. Just like me."

Lucy sighed and pulled the hand holding her tissue from around Macbeth to blow her nose, then instantly cuddled closer to him. She had missed this feeling so much in the past three months. "You give nice hugs."

Macbeth's smile widened into a rarely seen grin. "You do too."

Erik stood in the doorway to the little library with Miss Kyouka, his amethyst eyes wide and his jaw dropped open in shock while he watched Macbeth and Lucy. Macbeth only talked to  _him_  the way he was with the little blonde girl, and he was angry that she was getting all of his best friend's attention. That is, until he heard just what happened to her parents, and what she went through. After Miss Kyouka had ripped into him and the others for talking about Lucy when they didn't know anything about her, he'd gotten pulled off to the side by his ear and practically dragged into the building. She'd told him that he wouldn't say things like that about Lucy if he knew her, but she never mentioned this.  _'She's special like me and Macbeth,'_  he thought sadly.  _'No wonder she wouldn't talk…'_ He didn't like that he felt as though Lucy was taking Macbeth away from him, but… Macbeth was the one that made Erik feel safe and less lonely when he was rescued from the slavers. Macbeth understood, and he had scars too.  _'Guess I'll have to get used to her being around us now…'_

"Lucy," Macbeth said softly after another minute, "Do you wanna be my friend?"

She shrugged, refusing to let go. "I don't know... What do I have to do?"

It was Macbeth's turn to shrug. He wasn't sure what friends were really  _supposed_  to do, but he knew what he liked doing with Erik and the others. "I dunno. Didn't you have friends before?"

Lucy shook her head with a sigh. "N-No… There weren't any kids around, and I wasn't allowed to go outside alone… So I just played by myself… What's it like?"

Kyouka looked down at Erik to see that all the anger he'd had building up while they walked inside had dissipated completely. She lightly tapped his shoulder, then led him away from the room. Once they were down the hall, she said, "It seems Lucy isn't so different from you, Erik. Maybe next time you won't be so quick to judge…"

"Yes, Miss Kyouka," Erik sighed.  _'Guess she's right… Still doesn't mean I have to like Macbeth spending time with her…'_

Macbeth smiled down at Lucy. "It's fun, Lucy. I'll show you."

Lucy smiled brightly up at Macbeth. "Okay. I'll be your friend… Will you be mine?"

"Yeah! We're always gonna be friends."

* * *

Lucy's eyes shot open as she was ripped from her nightmare, and she quickly sat up in bed to look frantically around the room. The other girls that she shared a room with at the orphanage were sound asleep. There was no blood on the walls or on herself, but she was still terrified. An eerie, high-pitched scraping sound came from the other side of the room, and when her gaze shot over to see if she could figure out where it was, a strange shadow moved across the face of the window.  _'He's coming!'_

Lucy scrambled out of the bed and ran from the room. There was no way he was going to get her. Mr. Dreyar was supposed to be in jail. The police told her that, and Miss Kyouka and Miss Seilah said that he wouldn't get out for a long, long time. If ever. But Lucy knew he was coming for her. Her heart was pounding so loudly she knew he would be able to hear it as she ran down the hall, and when there was a soft thump from somewhere behind her, Lucy dashed into another room and closed the door behind her as silently as possible.

Macbeth frowned when he looked at the door to see Lucy trembling and panting while she stood in front of it. He'd just been talking to Erik, who wanted to know why Macbeth had spent the rest of the day with Lucy instead of coming to play with him, when the door opened to reveal the terrified blonde. And she really did look spooked. "Lucy?" he whispered.

Lucy squeaked and crouched down on the floor, throwing her hands over her mouth. He'd found her, and now Mr. Dreyar was going to get back at her for tattling to the police about what she saw.  _'Please… Leave me alone!'_

Macbeth silently got out of his bed and walked over to the door, then crouched in front of the shaking blonde. She flinched when he put his hands on her shoulders, and he was just barely able to see the tears streaming down her face in the dim moonlight that was coming in through the window. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly.

Lucy looked up to see Macbeth's worried face, and quickly shook her head. "I-I'm scared," she breathed. "He's coming for me…"

Macbeth lightly rubbed his hands over her shoulders as he looked back at the room of sleeping boys. There were only four beds in this room - one for himself, Erik, Sawyer, and Richard - and he knew that she couldn't really stay there. It was against the rules for girls and boys to be in the same room at night. But the others were asleep… Well, Richard and Sawyer were asleep. Erik was just pretending to be sleeping since they didn't know who came into the room at first. He sighed softly and looked back at Lucy. She looked so scared that he just didn't want to walk her back to her room, and he definitely didn't want to wake up Miss Kyouka or Miss Seilah and let them know what was happening.  _'I'll help her.'_

"Macbeth, I'm scared. Don't let him take me away."

"It's okay, Lucy," Macbeth whispered. "You can stay here with me if you want. But you've gotta stay quiet so no one wakes up. Girls aren't supposed to be in here." When Lucy nodded quickly, he helped her stand up, then held her hand and led her over to his bed.

Lucy watched as Macbeth laid down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, then fidgeted for a moment before laying down with him. She pulled the blanket up and laid on her side, watching as he didn't even try and go to sleep. "Aren't you closing your eyes? You should be tired by now…"

"I can't sleep at night," he said. "Miss Seilah says it's insom-something… Any time I try, I just lay awake."

Lucy frowned. "Do you ever sleep?"

"When I can't stay awake anymore. It keeps the nightmares away though."

She sighed heavily. "I had a nightmare." It was why she woke up in the first place. Just being around Macbeth was making her less afraid though. And if Mr. Dreyar was going to come after her, then he probably would have found her by now. And even if he was coming, Macbeth would keep her safe. He just seemed like he could do that for her. And the other boys in the room would probably wake up if that happened, so they could help her too. Now that she thought about it, she probably just seemed like a scaredy cat. "I should… Maybe I should go back to my room…"

Macbeth smiled when he looked over at her. He could feel her trembling even though they weren't even touching, and he knew that she was just trying to be brave. Erik did the same thing most of the time. "It's okay," he whispered, rolling onto his side to look at her. "Do you wanna tell me? You don't have to."

"I had a nightmare about him... About Mr. Dreyar… I..." Lucy whimpered and shook her head quickly. "I don't wanna think about it."

Macbeth nodded. He never really wanted to think about his nightmares right after he had them either. "You can sleep here. I'll wake you up before Miss Seilah comes in the morning."

Lucy smiled at him and gave him a small nod. "You really don't sleep at night?" When Macbeth shook his head, she laughed softly. "You're weird, Midnight."

"Huh?"

Lucy moved closer, blushing when he tucked the blanket around her more securely. "I said you're weird, Midnight. Not sleeping at night... But... I understand."

Macbeth grinned happily. He'd never gotten a nickname before, and he really liked the one Lucy gave him. He wasn't sure if she even realized that she'd done it, but he liked it a lot. He'd never forget this, but she needed a nickname too. "I'm glad, Dawn."

Lucy's eyes widened. "D-Dawn?"

Macbeth shrugged. "It's like midnight, but kinda the opposite. It's light and pretty. Like you."

Lucy blushed and tucked herself into the blanket a little more. "I've never seen it."

"I can wake you up and show you sometime. I see it almost every day through this window."

"I'd like that, Midnight," Lucy whispered with a smile. She took a deep breath and felt the warmth of the blanket around her starting to make her eyelids heavy.

Macbeth's hands slid the small distance between them, and tenderly grasped Lucy's beneath the blanket. "Go to sleep, Dawn," he whispered. "I'll keep the nightmares away." He laid there for several minutes, just watching her slowly fall asleep. He couldn't take his eyes from her. Even though there were still tears staining her cheeks, Lucy looked peaceful while she slept. He just hoped that she wouldn't have more nightmares while she was in the bed with him. "Erik, are you still up?" he whispered.

Erik sat up in his bed and looked at Macbeth. "Duh, you two wouldn't shut up," he grumbled.

Macbeth looked at his best friend over Lucy's shoulder and frowned. "Don't be mean to her anymore, okay? She's special…"

Erik looked at the back of Lucy's head for a long moment. "I heard what happened to her," he finally said. "You know she's probably crazy, right?"

"No, she's not," Macbeth shot back with a glare. "Lucy's nice."

"How would  _you_  know?" Erik hissed. "You just started talking today. She could be a psycho killer that's waiting for you to fall asleep so she can murder you."

"Don't talk about that. What if she hears you?"

Erik shrugged. "What do I care?"

"Well, when  _you_  came here, you didn't want anything to do with anyone. And we couldn't talk about slaves or dungeons or rope and stuff."

Erik's face hardened and he levelled Macbeth with a steely glare. "Because that's messed up." Macbeth knew exactly why they couldn't talk about stuff like that. Because he'd been a slave in a dungeon, tied up with rope. He'd been beaten and hurt in more ways than a kid should have. Macbeth  _knew_  the reasons why stuff that was too close to what he went through before were off limits in conversations.

"Yeah, and she watched her parents get  _murdered_  by some psycho killer," Macbeth said angrily. "Don't you think  _that's_ messed up to talk about around her?"

Erik crossed his arms petulantly over his chest. He could see the logic in what Macbeth said, but he wasn't going to tell his friend that he was right about it. "Well, if she flips out, then we'll know she's a psycho."

"Then that makes me and you just as crazy, Erik," he said. "She's like us... Like  _you_."

"Tch... Yeah right."

Macbeth sighed as he looked down at Lucy's sleeping face. "She didn't know what Trick-or-Treating was," he said after a pregnant pause. "And she's never had any friends. She's really smart too. She read me one of the books Freed usually reads."

Erik blinked in surprise. Sure, he heard what she had told Macbeth earlier about her past and stuff, but… He didn't remember her saying that she never had friends. Or that she didn't know about the best holiday of the year. Miss Kyouka had led him away from the library earlier that day before Lucy had started reading to Macbeth, so he didn't know she was smart either. "We'll see," he whispered as he looked at the head of blonde hair peeking out from beneath the blanket.

When Macbeth was silent, Erik frowned and looked over to see that his best friend had actually fallen asleep. He knew that the kid had slept the night before, and that he usually went at least two days before passing out, so he just couldn't understand how it was possible for him to fall asleep again so soon. And that was when he looked back at the blonde. She really did seem like a nice person, but Erik was what a bunch of the other, older kids called 'an asshole'. He wasn't nice like her.

Yeah, Erik didn't know a lot about Lucy, but Macbeth was right about one thing. She was special. Just like himself, and just like the black-and-white haired boy that was sleeping next to her. After a long time - although, how long, he wasn't entirely sure - Erik shook his head and smirked. "Midnight and Dawn, huh?" he whispered to himself. Those two really did look like night and day, like they'd be really good friends when they got older just because of how close they were after one day.

Erik didn't really hate Lucy, but he just didn't want Macbeth to forget about him to hang out with her.  _'If I'm friends with her too, then he won't forget about me.'_  He could be friends with the little blonde. Miss Kyouka was always telling him that he should try being nicer to more of the kids at the orphanage, but they just didn't get what he went through. They didn't understand why he sometimes thought he was hearing voices - even though they never told him to do anything bad, it was still creepy. But… Macbeth understood because he was special. So maybe… Maybe Lucy would understand too.

As Erik laid himself back down and got comfortable again, he found himself staring at Lucy's hair. "Wonder what she'd call me…" he whispered before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.  _'I think I'll call her Bright Eyes… That fits her really good…'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like you all to know that I will be writing more for this story. It'll be out of order, just snippets of the story like the rest of this week was. So, I'd like for all of you to let me know what you'd like to see. Different points in their lives, relationships you're curious about, something in the timeline you want more information on, pretty much anything is fair game. And at any point in their lives.
> 
> For those who are familiar with this story from FFnet, you may notice that two of the later chapters ("The New Tamashi" and "The Truth of What I Did") are missing. I decided to move them to the right story (Midnight to Dawn: Kindred Soul), since that's where they really belonged anyway... Well, they'll get moved over there after I finally get around to writing the last couple prompts for BixCo Week.


	8. Laxus Dreyar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a few of my readers were wondering about Laxus' involvement at the orphanage, and what his relationship with Lucy is like because of his father. Here you go.
> 
> Requestors: sunkeepsmiling, xiu1299, Kurohana806, FW Wandering, Dragon Queene Layla St Gabriel

Erik and Lucy are 5. Laxus is 11.

* * *

Six months had passed since Lucy's first Halloween in the orphanage, and Erik sat down on one end of the bench that he and Macbeth always spent time on while they were outside with the other kids. For the most part, all he did was watch the blonde and his best friend interact. He hadn't forgotten what Macbeth had told him the first night that Lucy had slept in their room, that he should try to open up to her because they had more in common than he really thought in the first place.

Problem was, Erik just didn't want to get to know her. She didn't smile all that much, not that he really blamed her for it, but when she did it was just too happy. Too bright. He didn't want to see how Macbeth would smile right back. And he didn't want to be the only other person that knew that Lucy was the one that somehow helped his friend sleep when nothing else had done it before.

It stung, a lot if he was being honest with himself. Macbeth was supposed to be  _his_ best friend, not hers. Erik hadn't had any friends before coming to the orphanage, and the crappy therapy sessions that he had to go through with Miss Seilah just made him all the more angry. He wanted to forget what happened in the past, but every week that he went to see her… It would all get pulled right back up. She'd make him talk about it. Or she would talk and he'd pretend to listen. Either way, he didn't think it was doing a whole lot of good for him in the long run.

And it was why he was so angry right then. Macbeth was asleep, since his insomnia had finally decided to let him get some much needed rest. Sorano and the others had decided to go off and play hide and seek with Erza. Erik could have gone with them, but he just didn't want to. He wanted to be inside, locked in his room since no one else was there - and Macbeth didn't really count, since he was going to be asleep for most of the day anyway. He wasn't allowed to do that, though, since Miss Seilah said he shouldn't be alone after a session.

Erik gazed out across the playground, and his eyes narrowed when he caught Freed's blond friend scowling while he towered over Lucy where she was sitting under a tree by the building. She looked scared, and Erik wasn't close enough to hear what was being said, but he decided that he really didn't care.

Lucy's minute smile faded when a large shadow fell over her, and she slowly looked up with wide eyes to see Laxus glaring down at her. She'd been trying to avoid him since coming to the orphanage, and she had made it almost an entire year doing just that. Their fathers had been business partners, and even though he was a few years older than her, Laxus had been someone she could spend time with during when she was actually taken along on business trips. Once her parents were killed though, she knew he blamed her for what happened afterwards.

"It's all your fault, y'know."

She shook her head, and he sneered.

"I had to go live with Gramps because of what you did."

"I-I didn't-"

"Yeah," Laxus spat. "You did. You did  _everything_."

"B-But…" Tears welled in Lucy's eyes when she saw Laxus' hands clenching into fists at his sides. "H-He…"

"He didn't do  _anything_  to you," the older blond sneered. Without another moment's hesitation, his hand shot out and gripped Lucy's hair while he pulled her to her feet. "You lied to the cops, and you said my dad did it. He wasn't there! He was at home with me!"

"P-Please," Lucy whimpered. "I didn't…"

"Your dad was an asshole," Laxus hissed. "He was a shitty business partner, and I'm glad he's dead!"

Erik's brow lifted and his head tilted to one side as Lucy's eyes screwed themselves shut, a single sob bursting past her lips. He watched in silence as Lucy instantly crumpled to the ground in tears once Laxus let her hair go, silently making his way closer to find out just what was happening.

"You're gonna tell the cops the truth." Icy blue eyes narrowed at the crying girl's shuddering form. "Someone broke in and killed your parents, and my dad didn't have shit to do with it."

"Laxus," Freed said quietly as he walked up behind the blond. "Is everything alright?"

"No. You remember how I told you… My dad got locked up for some bullshit that he didn't do?"

"Yes."

"She's the one that pointed the damn finger at him. Little crazy bitch. The only person she could think of was my dad, so she blamed it all on him!"

"N-No!" Lucy whimpered, a pained cry leaving her when his sneaker connected with her arm. "M-Mister Dreyar showed up! He… I was laying under Daddy, and he…"

"Liar!" Laxus roared. "You're a damn psycho! Watched your parents get murdered, laid in blood for hours… I was at the fucking trial! I saw the pictures!"

"Sh-Shut up," Lucy cried. "Don't… D-Don't talk about it."

"Covered in blood, right? Your mom got her brains blown all over your birthday cake. Happy birthday to Looney Lucy." A cruel grin spread over his face as he laughed. "Looney Lucy. That fits. Did you know that maid… What's her name…"

"St-Stop… Please…"

"Virgo," Laxus nodded. "She's locked in a crazy house now. Just like  _you_  should be."

"N-No…" Lucy's arms wound around her stomach and her knees drew up to her chest while bile steadily rose in the back of her throat. She was torn between crying, screaming, running, and puking at that moment. Her eyes wrenched shut as image after image rolled through her head, playing like a little horrific movie that she couldn't turn off. "N-No blood… He's… He's heavy…"

"Laxus," Freed said softly as the girl started mumbling to herself. "Maybe you should leave-"

"Hell no," Laxus sneered. "She's gonna tell me why she lied about it. My dad wasn't there! She's just a psycho and made it all up!" His eyes widened when the next kick he sent flying toward the crying blonde was knocked up into the air, and in the next instant he was lying on the ground with a flurry of fists barreling down on him. "What the hell?!"

"You don't know anything about what happened!" Erik bellowed. With his teeth bared, and his own memories flying through his head of what he'd wanted to do to the men that were trying to sell him before, he reached down and grabbed a handful of dirt then smeared it in Laxus' eyes. He couldn't help it. Any time he got into a fight, the same things would pop up, pushing him to do more. To hurt whoever he was angry at as though they had been the ones to lock him up before.

Freed gasped as the younger, tan boy punched Laxus between the legs as he jumped away. "Laxus. Are you alright?"

"Th-That fucking… kid…"

"Lucy, it's okay," Erik whispered urgently, kneeling before the blonde.

"S-So heavy… Make it stop… Make it…" Lucy's breaths shortened until she was desperately gasping for air.

"Breathe," Erik whispered as his arms wound around her. "Breathe, okay? It's not scary. Just breathe."

Freed helped Laxus stand up, then turned and called out to Sorano while she ran by. "Get Miss Kyouka. Lucy's having a panic attack."

Sorano's eyes went wide and she peered around the two older boys to find Erik holding the new girl while she freaked out over something. "Erik, what are you doing?"

"Now!" Freed yelled, glaring at the silver-haired girl until she rushed away and into the building. Once she was out of sight, he turned back to Laxus. "I'm not sure what this is about, but… You need to go."

"Hell no!" Laxus shouted. "My dad went to prison because of her!" He dropped down and pulled Erik away, throwing the younger boy as far back as possible. His hands wrapped around Lucy's shoulders and he shook her while she continued gasping for air. "Quit faking it! You just don't wanna admit that you lied!"

"Laxus, she can't breathe!" Freed shouted. He dropped to the ground and tried in vain to pull his angered friend away, not noticing the other kids on the playground had started to form a circle around them to see what was going on.

"Admit it!"

Erik looked around and his eyes narrowed when they landed on a rock. Without hesitating, he picked it up and lunged at Laxus, then cracked him over the head with it. "Leave her alone!" Once Laxus was lying on the ground, he took the kid's place and wrapped his arms around Lucy again. "Breathe," he whispered. "It's okay…"

Kyouka and Seilah pushed through the crowded children and finally came to the center as Lucy's eyes locked onto the blood on the ground. Just the sight of the crimson liquid had an unholy shriek of terror ripping itself from her throat.

Erik struggled to keep Lucy in his arms as she started flailing, and he finally pushed her down onto the ground and forced her head against his neck. It didn't matter that she was scratching his arms and probably ripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she was going through. This was the same thing that happened to him when he saw rope, or anything else that reminded him of what he'd gone through before the cops finally found him in that basement. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay. I promise… It's okay…"

"What happened?" Seilah asked as she knelt to help Laxus sit up, her fingers lightly prodding at the gash on his face.

"That kid's a psycho," he spat.

"That's enough," Kyouka said with narrowed eyes. She turned to the gathered children, and silently watched as they all rushed back to the rest of the playground. Slowly, she looked back at the children still present, and shook her head. Really, it had only been a matter of time before Laxus confronted Lucy, but she had never thought it would be this bad. Especially not so long after his father had been incarcerated. "Laxus, what were you thinking?"

"She's a liar!" he yelled over Lucy's screams. He pushed past Seilah once he was on his feet again, and stalked over to the blonde that was pinned beneath Erik. "She-"

Erik slowly turned his head, making sure Lucy's sobs were still muffled by his neck and shoulder and that she couldn't see the blood pouring down Laxus' face. "Say one more word and I'll rip off your dick and make you eat it," he growled. "Leave her alone."

"Who's gonna make me?" Laxus sneered.

"I am." Kyouka placed a gentle hand on Laxus' arm and pulled him away, her jaw tensing as she fought to keep her anger at bay. "Seilah, please take him down to the infirmary and help get him cleaned up. I think he may need stitches."

"She's a liar," Laxus whispered to the older woman. "I know my dad didn't do it."

"He was convicted on more than just Lucy's testimony," Kyouka said quietly. "I'd like for you to leave and take some time to think about what you just did to her."

"I didn't do anything."

"So you say," Kyouka sighed. "But I think you'll realize it soon. Maybe after a talk with your grandfather."

Freed walked up to the older woman silently, chewing his lower lip as Laxus was led away and into the building. "Miss Kyouka…"

"I won't tell you who you can and can't be friends with, Freed," she sighed. "But I would like it if you would keep an eye on him when he comes around the orphanage. Keep him away from Lucy."

Freed looked back down at the crying blonde, who had finally relaxed enough that she wasn't wildly attacking Erik while he held her. "I wasn't aware that Lucy was…"

Kyouka nodded. "Why don't you go inside, Freed? If Laxus' grandfather will allow it, you can go and spend time with him today. As long as you're back by curfew." Once the young green-haired boy left, she let out a heavy sigh and knelt on the ground next to the last two children. "Erik."

"Go away. She doesn't wanna see you."

"Erik, it's me," she said with a raised brow. "I need to check on Lucy."

His eyes opened, hard and cold as he looked into Miss Kyouka's gentle blue gaze. "Go. Away." Lucy didn't need to see anyone, and he definitely wasn't going to let someone take her away. She was scared, just as scared as he was when he thought too much about his past. Miss Kyouka and Miss Seilah could have all the degrees they wanted, but he knew how Lucy felt from experience. Which meant that he could help her a whole lot better than anyone else. "You're not coming near her."

Kyouka blinked in surprise at the young boy. For months, she'd watched Erik do everything in his power to avoid the blonde, even while she was spending time with Macbeth. So, to suddenly see him protecting her… A gentle smile pulled up the corners of her lips. "I see," she whispered. "Well, when you're able to… Could you take Lucy inside?"

Lucy's eyes opened and she blinked her tears away to find dark flesh and maroon hair in her line of sight, a heavy weight on her body, and thin arms wrapped around her. "E-Erik?"

He nodded to Miss Kyouka, then tightened his grip on Lucy. "I'm right here. It's okay now."

She sniffled loudly and decided to go with her gut, wrapping her arms around the boy on top of her and hugging him as tightly as she could manage. "I-I…"

"It's okay, Bright Eyes," Erik whispered. "You don't gotta talk." His eyes slid closed as his nose nestled in her hair. "I gotcha. You're safe now."

Another sob bubbled up in Lucy's chest, and she clutched herself to Erik as it burst free. It didn't matter to her where they were at. If they were out in the playground, in the library, or his and Macbeth's room. The fact that Erik was there - when she thought he would never want to be her friend to begin with - holding her just like Macbeth did when something was wrong, made it alright for her.

She didn't know about Erik's past, just that he was special like herself and Macbeth. It helped to explain why he was carefully rocking her from side to side. How he knew when to sit up with her and just keep holding her. How he was able to figure out that she wanted to go inside and lay down somewhere.

Erik led her to his and Macbeth's room, then looked over at the only other boy in the room to see him sprawled out on his bed. "C'mere," he whispered, leading her to his own bed. He pulled the blanket down and sat Lucy down, then sighed in relief as he looked at his shirt. She hadn't actually ripped it. He didn't even have that many scratches on him. "Lay down, 'kay?"

Lucy kicked her shoes off and silently rested her head on the pillow. She wanted to go over and wake Macbeth up, but her gaze cut over to Erik when he spoke again as though he could hear her thoughts.

"Not a good idea. When he falls asleep on his own… He gets really mad when someone tries to wake 'im up." Erik sat down on the edge of the bed after pulling up the blanket over the blonde.

"Why are you being nice to me? I-I thought you-"

"I don't hate ya," Erik whispered. He thought he did, too. Until he found out why Laxus was getting on Lucy's case. And when he saw how scared she was. Macbeth looked like that sometimes. When he woke up from a nightmare.

"But… You always ignore me…"

He sighed and laid down on the bed, keeping his own sneakers on. "I wanna hate you," he finally whispered after several minutes of looking at her in silence. "Macbeth's s'posed to be my friend. But you took him away…"

Lucy's brow furrowed and she shook her head. "No, I wanna hang out with you, too. Midnight just said that you should be the one that comes over, so…" Slowly, she pushed the blanket down from her shoulders and held one of his hands with both of hers. "Will you be my friend, too?"

A small smirk pulled up one corner of his lips. "Maybe."

Lucy smiled through her drying tears. "If you and me are friends too, then we can both spend time with Macbeth. I…" Her face fell and her shoulders sagged slightly. "Macbeth is the first friend I ever had."

"Me too," Erik whispered. When she looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. "These guys stole me from a hospital when I was littler… They sold me to some doctor, and he made my ears like this…"

Lucy slowly reached up to touch the pointed tip of his ear with wide eyes. "Really?"

Erik nodded. "He said something about… Exotic something. Then I was taken to a warehouse. Then a ship. And a butcher shop. Then a basement. And those guys beat me and… They hurt me a lot… Then the cops came."

Tears sprang up in her eyes as she listened to Erik's story. "Th-They hurt you?"

He shrugged again. No way was he going to get upset right then. If he did, then Lucy wouldn't be able to stay there. A slow, cruel smile stretched across his face. "Yeah, but… I got 'em back for it. They never saw it comin'. Made the cops puke everywhere when they found me…"

She nervously nibbled her lower lip while looking into Erik's amethyst eyes. "That sounds like a snake Mama told me about. They come outta nowhere, and nothing can hurt 'em. Really poisonous, too."

"What kind?" he asked. "Snakes are awesome."

She giggled at that, feeling her fear from before slowly trickling away the longer she was with Erik. "A cobra." After a moment, she squeezed his hand. "You're a cobra."

He grinned then. Six months before, he'd been wondering what kind of nickname she would give him, and now he knew. "I kinda like that, Bright Eyes."

"Bright Eyes?"

He nodded and squeezed her hand back as his other closed over it. "Yep. Big, bright, happy eyes. Even when you're sad and stuff, they're all shiny."

"Well, if I'm that, then you're Cobra," she laughed. The way he smiled at her had Lucy's own widening.

"Awesome." Cobra closed his eyes when Lucy's fingers threaded through his hair. "Midnight won't be up for a few hours, so… Whaddya wanna do?"

Lucy shrugged. "This is fine. I wanna get to know my new friend."

His eyes creaked open only slightly, and a small smile split his lips as warmth filled his chest. "Works for me," he whispered. That morning, he'd never thought that he would like Lucy. She was just trying to take his friend away. But now? Now he knew that she really was a just like him. Just like Macbeth. They were special, and they were all messed up in the head.

Talking with Lucy about where he was found was the first time he could remember ever doing it without freaking out. It was weird, but Macbeth had told him that she just made people smile somehow. She made them calm.

Erik liked calm. Almost as much as he liked being called Cobra by his new blonde friend.


End file.
